Spring House
Brick by stone by mud and stick they closed her in, these cares. Square blocks of paperwork yet undone, a gray cold stone the aging father. Fruit flies hovered over the moldering harvest in baskets on the floor. The mending raised the lid of the chest in which it lay. Each thing cramped her, each thing walled her in.
But a window remained--an airy bright clean square in the pile. Through it she could breathe and gather sunshine, while the rivulet of her thoughts ran fresh beneath it all. A few minutes on the porch at dawn, a nourishing page of a book--or from her pen, a hymn at the piano, a tomato with basil and warm from the garden--
The window was more true and strong than all the misshapen stones around it, but they formed the substance through which the window let her soul take flight.
150 words
10 comments:
Some interesting images in this - I liked the pile of mending raising the lid. I'm not sure I've got the drift of the story though, but I enjoyed reading it.
Thanks, Sandra! My idea is that the refreshing activities (reading, etc.) ARE the window in the midst of the rubble of her chores. :-)
What a wonderfully descriptive tale of how overwhelmed and hemmed in this poor woman must have felt in the rustic, other-time world before the Internet, digital TV and all the tech wonders were there to offer her diversion. Nice to see she found outlets in the simple things.
Actually, Jeffrey, I wrote it late last night when I myself was feeling walled in by all those kinds of things. The mending and bills and harvest and elderly relative are all very real parts of my world, and I work and play at my computer(s) all day! But I do find release in those simple things--thanks for showing me what I hadn't really seen myself!
:-)
Thanks for liking it!
I think this is my favorite line: "while the rivulet of her thoughts ran fresh beneath it all." And I liked the use of all the small joys to refresh her. I can identify with the walled-in feeling and those little moments can certainly make a difference. But I found the first paragraph to be a little obtuse (maybe just me being obtuse).
Hmmm, just realized I meant to say I found the first paragraph a bit obscure but perhaps I was being obtuse. Should check before I post.
I especially enjoyed the finish...
sometimes when I read Toliken that happens to me too.
Janet, I was just trying to name the various things that formed the brick, the stone, the stick, the mud--all the details of her life that walled her in.
Thanks, Bill!
Interesting read. I feel her frustration, feeling walled-in, trapped... in "prison" so to speak. I wonder if the first paragraph would read better with proper commas, etc.
Thanks for stopping by, Lora. You're not the first to have a little trouble with the first paragraph -- I need to think on that technique.
Post a Comment