As a little white rabbit said “I’m late, I’m late…”
But I managed to pull something together eventually. The thing about Friday Fictioneers is the big hook, once you’re on you just don’t want to wriggle off! The photo this week is courtesy of Lora Mitchell and the Friday Fictioneers are lovingly corralled each week by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Word Count: 100
Martha stares out at the city one last time.
Seems she is always waiting.
She had waited for a husband to love.
She had waited a while for their first child.
She had waited in vain for their second.
She had waited for her husband to love her as she loved him.
She waits for the bus, holding one bag and one silent child, ‘can’t have any more that don’t speak’
She waits at her mother’s door for the comforting arms that will hold them both; for the heart that is bigger than the ocean, to envelop them in love.
I haven’t posted anything for a while; I have had to deal with some very upsetting family developments which, quite frankly have let me stunned. I had been away to Crete and had a wonderful holiday (post on that to follow hopefully) when on my way home from the airport, I had to deal with a call from a distraught daughter-in-law.
My son has moved of their home. There have been no arguments, no-one else is involved; he just feels the need to be on his own and work out what it is that is making him unhappy. He has said he will arrange to see a counsellor.
Their marriage was one I would have bet on as a sure thing; they are so good together and have been for almost 18 years
I have spoken to them both, offered a bed, food, a shoulder, a sounding board – anything that will help. She is the daughter I never had and I am feeling so incredibly sad for them both.
I hope to be back with you soon, sorry not to have been around for a while