Friday, February 22, 2008

Entry #22

Metamorphosis
by Bluesugarpoet


In obscurity, Aveline peered out her bedroom window. One quarter of an inch she raised the slat on the blind. That was enough. At first, only the paint chipped away from the slat. Now, a half-moon shaped itself on the spot where her thumb and forefinger rested nearly a thousand times a day. On that spot, the worn wood felt like the smoothness of stones that tumbled for a hundred miles or more from the mountains all the way to the creek out back.

When was the last time she gathered stones from that creek? Fifteen years ago?

On stifling August days when her hair and shirt melted into her skin, they used to roll up their trousers and wade in the creek hand-in-hand, all the while collecting flat, smooth stones until their pocket seams threatened to unravel. He wanted to let go and skip stones even though the current greedily tugged at his little legs. “Hold onto my hand, honey, or you’ll be swept away,” she would caution. Undeterred he would squeal, "Didja see that, Mommy!" as another stone skated across the water until it trickled into nothingness.

The solitary tree – a requiem for her son - stood up on the hill. Encircled by the heavens, the tree waited as Aveline outlined it again by sight, tracing every branch, every twig, every bud. Soon the grass beneath the tree would be green again, and pregnant buds would give way to leaf. She knew it, and she felt it.

26 comments:

Beth said...

Sad, yet hopeful. Nicely written.

Missy said...

So sad, but her connection to the tree is endearing. Sweet tale.

ChristineEldin said...

I like how you zoom in, then zoom out. Very nicely written.

pattinase (abbott) said...

Funny how that tree evoked such sadness. Had there been leaves upon it...

Remiman said...

Pleasant desdription of a tree as monument to the seasons of human life and as a long standing memorial icon.
Well done!
rel

DBA Lehane said...

Subtle and beautifully introspective. No surprises there's "poet" in your screen name! Well crafted indeed!

paisley said...

very well written.. so sad. for both of them....

JLB said...

Very nicely written - I can feel the smoothness of the river stones.

24crayons said...

Definitely made me want to cry out against the unfairness of it all - sad. Well-written!

bluesugarpoet said...

Thank you all for reading and responding! Come to think of it, my story is a little sad. Ironically, I prefer make people laugh!

I was out all day today, so I didn't get a chance to enjoy reading the other entries. I can't wait to start reading your stories tomorrow!

Sarah Hina said...

As a parent, this one put an ache in my heart. I loved the transition from the worn wood into her memory of the stones.

Lovely writing here.

Absolute Vanilla (& Atyllah) said...

This is beautifully written with words and rhythm that flow and evoke such poignancy. Wonderful imagery too. Lovely writing. Definitely one of my favourites.

BernardL said...

A sad reverie for a son.

pjd said...

You know what I think about it already. There are many subtleties in this that upon closer inspection show a depth to Aveline and her situation that may not be readily apparent on a first, quick read. The opening two words don't just mean she's a nobody in the middle of nowhere; for me they also indicate her state of mind, the fact that she has a darkness around her (closed blinds) and a darkness inside her. Couple that with the title, the image of the winter tree tending toward spring, the "pregnant buds," the way she looks out the blinds... sad, yes, but ultimately this is a story of eternal hope and the cycles of life.

Veggies.... said...

I agree with Beth...sad but hopeful are the words that come to mind, reading this poignant story.
Really enjoyed reading this one.

Geraldine

SzélsőFa said...

I like that there's hope at the end - beautifully poetic with vivid descpritions.

sandra seamans said...

Such a sad beautiful written story. You've captured perfectly the feelings of a woman who's lost her child.

Hoodie said...

Stunningly written. I really love this.

MickyMc said...

a sad tale, why do tree make us all write sad stories!

Aerin said...

A well written story but heartwrenching. I could not read it a second time, thinking of my own small boy. I'm such a sap.

bekbek said...

This is gorgeous. Sad, but joyful. Nicely done.

puresunshine said...

nice tale. good images

Gnewvegan said...

nicely done. Sad but poetic in nature.

bluesugarpoet said...

Peter - nothing gets past you! :) Thank you for the kind words, all. I truly appreciate the compliments and comments that this piece mad you feel something. I actually meant to write something entirely different, but this one had a life of its own... Loved reading everyone's stories; it will be difficult to narrow my choices to only five. Such talent!!!

jason evans said...

I like the promise of the turning season. Vivid ideas in these descriptions. I liked the use of the stones.

Aine said...

My heart broke with hers as she outlined the tree "tracing every branch, every twig, every bud." I'm so grateful that you ended it with hope.