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Contemporary Creative Nonfiction Sad

A mine field of emotions swirling with colours. Bright and cheery, luminescent and glowing, solid and translucent.

Eyes awash with cheer and happiness within, glistening and gleaming with contentment.

Excitement and joy flooding through an active and alive mind.

Family and friends filling a heart with emerald greens and blues, oranges and happiness yellow. Laughter and health in abundance. Smiles and cheerfulness feeding peaceful nerves with delight.

Veins pumping love, adoration and affection to feed the hungry cells that turn the emotions into warm-hearted memories.

The smell of fresh popcorn and gardenias as the sun sets in spring bring instant memories of buttery saltiness and waiting outside the movie cinema for an usher to signal that the anticipated time has arrived. Arms linked together, shoulders leaning tight to each other, foreheads touching and fidgeting hands rubbing one another excitably.

The warmth of another body is cosy and comforting and it emits an inner smile.

Muscles alive with anticipation and expectations. Giggles and chuckles at small things that matter not a minute later. **add here

A bright imagination feeding the hopes and the dreams. All kept alive with surrounding friendship and love.

Family nights with drinking and merriness in abundance. Card games, board games and dice thrown with laughter and banter. Mock disappointment as cards drop to the table. Snacks of all shapes and sizes that taste savoury and comforting. Sweet treats that evoke memories of family fun nights as a child when falling asleep on someone’s lap was the norm.

Summer picnics watching ants scurrying by while tree branches sway a dance to a whimsical tune. Fine light leaves spinning slowly to the soft green grass. Hair wisping in the breeze that is as cool to the skin as the sun is warm. Feeling dreamy and satiety. Full of energy and endlessly carefree.

Curling up under the rugs with a book held tight. Delving into the adventures, becoming one with the story, befriending the characters. Turning the pages and riding wave after wave of raw emotions. Laughing out loud and wiping tears five pages later. Feeling exhausted and glad and happy and hopeful when the last page is done.

Riding a bus and watching people. Learning their timetables and habits. Friendly chit chat between stops. Laughter escaping lips as one person’s infectious laughter spreads like a flash mob through the space. Wiping tears and rubbing jaw muscles and not knowing what the laughter was for but knowing that there is no better feeling than laughing out loud. Strangers becoming acquaintances and then some becoming friends. Watching their friendships blossom and bloom into shared giggles and stories that conjure memories of school friendships where tag at recess was the best part of the day until racing home with friends to play on monkey bars and swings, laughing whole heartedly in unison then laughing at laughter.

All gone.

The warmth diminishing.

Overwhelming desires to sit and dwell with dwindling energy to eat, talk, or hear.

Loneliness in a room full of friends and family.

Black inkiness spreading through tissue, veins and nerves, sapping emotions, energy, and liveliness.

Tears welling and falling silently, too dark within to sob.

Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months.

Dark and lonely. Feeling of falling. Grappling frantically at the sides of the darkening well as the sunlight gets farther and farther from outstretched arms.

Cuts and abrasions to all parts of the body.

Thump.

Breathlessness.

Eyes closed.

I don’t want to sleep.

Picnics and bus rides a thing of the past. Memories of them in only shades of grey.

No interest in popcorn and movie stubs. Salt now has no flavour. And fun seems over rated.

Laughter is now all but a forced smile below empty hollowing eyes.

Muscles feel weighted and walking is like treading water.

Breathing is like drowning.

Memories of school yards now become memories of lonely days, lost pets and friends that moved away.

Tiredness and sleepiness is overpowering.

Life is an unwelcome anesthetic that offers only twilight sedation.

Neither here nor there, whether  asleep or awake, the only colour is grey.

A hand in the distance, sensed not seen, pulling gently.

Easing the dark somber emotions from the thick tar pit. Easing the thickness into rough heavy sand.

Encouraging the sand to loosen to warm tapioca. The tapioca in turn becomes liquid that warms as the hand pulls at the emotions, but still, quiet darkness remains.

The hand grips a forearm and warmth is sensed on faintly tingling skin.

Veins begin to flush with dark crimson colour. A subtle shift from the dark dreary greys. A deep down yearning starts to yawn from within.

Jaw wide open, with a silent scream. Nose scrunched in pain. Eyes creased at corners. Shoulders tensed.

Nerves coming alive in temples and chest. Pain seeping through to pores, burning liquid onto skin.

Heat.

Intense fear and dread.

Heart pounding.

Shortness of breath.

Reluctance.

The hand slips on the wrist.

Another hand grips, and another and another radiating heat. Pushing colour through the darkness. Slowly at first and then faster and faster.

Browns, greys, and reds turn to orange, greens, and blues.

Eyes still shut tight, the colours begin to swirl within the flesh as the hands pull the shadows from the mind and turn the darkness to a dull glow.

The sides of the well coming into focus as eyelashes flutter. A twitch of a toe. A bend of a knee. A flex of an elbow.

A grasp at a hand.

A tightening grip as the sky blue grows closer and closer.

‘help me’ escaping from a downturned mouth.

Tears flow.

‘we got you’

The light becomes brighter, murmuring sounds become clearer and clearer, the heat becomes more prevalent, warming the chest and the lungs.

Slowing the breathing to large purposeful inhales and exhalations.

The voices are calming and encouraging. The hands not letting go. Both wrists enveloped in warm calming emotions.

Small smiles of encouragement.

Stepping out of the well and squinting.

Day by day, week by week.

The colours return in time becoming energetic and eager.

The deprivation of light in my mind felt like an  eternity.

March 24, 2022 09:57

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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