Another point of view

She laid there, all cold and pale like the dormant bark of a birch. The water slowly turned pink. It looked like scenery taken from a mid-century painting. Colors overwhelmed supposed fine lines; every object spoke their own versions of the same story.

Her fingers moved. Slowly, but they moved indeed. As they moved, her hand reached the closest tree. The movements grew even slower as her palm rested on the stem. As the water turned pinker, it was as if the water took her life force with it downstream leaving only the print of her palm on the tree.


7 responses to “Another point of view

  1. Interesting…know I want to have answers…the what, who, where, why?

  2. Dear Cae,

    I love watching your writing evolve. That was a quiet yet vivid piece and very well written. It’s too bad i won’t live long enough to read you in your prime.

    Thanks for the kind comments on Unhinged. I appreciate it very much.



    • Dearest D,

      Your kind words keep me writing. And I know, you’ll always be here (never mind life, in my heart is where I keep my friends).


  3. Michael Fishman

    I liked the comparison between the violent scene of the woman’s death and a mid-century painting of scenery. For me, that reduced the dying woman’s life to something almost beautiful, but also meaningless and I liked that, especially within the 100-word limit.

    Here’s mine:

  4. I really thought she would make it, with the little movement of fingers and hands. And then I went oh, when the life force left her, with the flow of the river downstream. Poignant in its sadness. A great piece.

    Here is mine:

  5. Tack för din fina kommentar! Den värmde!!! TACK!

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