Welcome to The Three Things Challenge. Every day Di at Pensitivity101 said “I’ll give you three words or things that will hopefully trigger your creativity. No need to use them all if you don’t want to, simply read the prompt and see what comes to mind.” Today’s words are.
As usual everything was spinning round in his head. The lights on the machine took over again, he was lost, drawn in. There be no reprieve no escape until the cash was all gone. The whole month’s salary wiped out. Nothing left for food, bills, the children. He might be lucky, he felt lucky so for now why worry?
The talent Geoff LePard posted about an exhibition he visited at Tate Modern. The exhibition was of the work of Dorothea Tanning. I was so taken by what Geoff had to say about his visit not only the artwork but also an over heard conversation in the cafe. You can read the post here. The Surreal in the Here and Now.
Below is one of Dorothea’s paintings it really took my eye and I had to write a mirror Etheree about it. This is just my interpretation, I am probably well off of the mark. I don’t care because it spoke to me. So thanks to Geoff we have.
The madness of doors.
I am mad
This demon here
Knows better than that
I just gave birth to it
Don’t dare look at me like that
Mad, no I have opened the doors
Madness lies in closed doors, teathered souls
Clawing at the wood screaming to be free.
Don’t approach, this fruit of my womb may bite.
If you disturb it, it will take flight
Madness lies that way you must know
I’ll not take your food or drink
It will sully my milk
My child needs to feed
To sate it’s greed
I know I
The painting is by Dorothea Tanning. It is called Birthday, 1942, Oil on canvas.
I wrote about a birth before I found out it was actually called Birthday.
Why was he alone there should be a hundred souls here. The last transport was now. Everyone had left months ago leaving the final few to shut down the planet. It was dark and acid rain was falling. 9 o’clock the email said, he got his mobile out to check…. nine AM…. Nooo!
The challenge this week is to take the title of a favourite song and write a story from the title.
I chose Not now but soon , by Imogen Heap. You can hear it here. If you wish.
Not now but soon.
James was always busy, always in a hurry. He never had time to play with children or even finish a meal with his wife.
Work was demanding, it was important. Think about it, he would justify it to himself, if he did not work so hard they would not have this fabulous home. Every year they had at least three holidays abroad and it was not cheap boarding the kids to that private school .
Gen sat in her kitchen with a cup of coffee. All alone as usual James had left early on a business trip, the children still at school for another week.
She had asked James to stay and have a serious talk but had only got the stock answer from him, Not now but soon.
Gen felt the emptiness of the house engulfing her. She looked across at the pile of Christmas decorations in the corner of the room. She wept at the thought of decorating this empty space not a home not anything.
James passed through security at the airport heading straight for the gate. He decided to ring home to say bye to Gen and remind her to collet his suit for Thursday.
Gen was heading up the stairs when the phone in her pocket rang. ‘Hey babe’ he said, have you got my suit yet?’ She replied in the affirmative! ‘And my shoes’ he asks breaking in to a run.
Not now but soon he hears Gen say.
He stops in his tracks and asks her what did she say? The phone is dead, she has gone!
James settles on the plane slightly irritated by Gen’s reply about his shoes. Well it will just have to wait until his return Wednesday night.
Gen lies in her perfect bathroom light streaming in onto her face. Her eyes are closed. All her pain is slipping away, the bath water is red, the bottles of tablets empty on the floor next to the Whiskey.
Am I dead yet she wonders , calmly she knows not now but soon.
James dashes in Wednesday evening grabbing his suit from the hall he runs upstairs shouting to Gen that they must talk , not now he is running late but soon yes soon.
In the bedroom he sees his shoes laid out, he breathes a sigh of relief. Wondering where Gen is he could do with a sandwich before he leaves.
James enters the bathroom and there she is …….
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This my first attempt at flash fiction so any comments welcome. Thanks.
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