Or I stare into the blank mirror, wondering what Georgette took of me this time.
And I gaze into the deep blue cloudless sky, wondering what she left of herself this time.
But I find only the vague reflection of my eyes staring back, wondering from the other side of the deep blue cloudless mirror.
Or I stand at the window, measuring the depth of the snow. Is it April or October? Winter’s belated farewell or early reckoning? The sun stares from the same spot in the same deep blue cloudless sky as the moment she had arrived. Was it October or April?
And I stand at the window, staring into the utterly empty living room full of her carefully (tediously) selected furniture and décor.
But I find only the vague reflection of my eyes staring back, straight into my deep blue cloudless eyes. Wondering from the other side of the utterly empty window. Searching for what she took of me. For what she left of herself.
This time.
<< Story #14 | Index of Stories | Story #16 >>
Originally published March 21, 2021
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Phenomenal. Haunting. Endearing. Wonderfully masterful. Your fault. Love the beauty of your creation.
Thanks! Was lots of fun.
A great post and that painting is phenomenal 💜
Thanks! I always appreciate your attention, willowdot21!!!
It always a pleasure Rick
What dramonovich said. 🙂
😀
That’s the shit right there. Symploce. Borderline poetic. I can always do without was but I’m a word cutter. BAM.
Beautiful text, thanks for sharing.
😀