Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Painting Stories #7

What I got:
Her vision blurred and the heavy burning in her gut knotted tight. It had not left her in the hours since he vanished and she suspected it would remain ever present. It crested into her ribs, her heart, until she felt the compression of her chest so that a simple, clear breath was impossible. 'Is this heartache?' she wondered. 'Is this what grief feels like?' The sensation was foreign, something her nomadic, sheltered childhood could have never prepared her for.


Elaine Lowe said...

That was beautifully done. Felt it write in my gut.

The tears from the night had tried on her face, and the morning had come bright and chilly. She'd see no sleep until it was all out of her, all the pain of rejection writ on the page, the notes coalescing into music she could hear in her mind, sweet and piercing, just like that first kiss should have been.

TS Tate said...

Thanks, C. Yours is so, so beautiful! Gah!

Saba said...

A story of sorts but here goes.....

Lowered gaze, a silent tear,
No one knows my worries,
my fears.

No one stops, no kindness to share.
they keep on walking
without a care.

I sit alone, waiting to hear,
all the while holding on
to what's dear.

My dignity, my pride,
my soul, my life.

TS Tate said...

Saba! Nice! it!