Sunday, January 31, 2016

Ghosts

Today's prompt was actually a grassy hill, the grass gently swaying in the wind...


I roll over and look at the clock on the nightstand. 6:20 AM it flashes at me, silently telling me it is time to get up. I no longer set the alarm, a lifetime of getting up early as train my body to wake up without being told to do so. Roll over on my feet land on the cold floor. My toes do a little dance inspire the blood to flow, the hopeless fight battle the chill coming from the hardwood floor.

Without willing myself to do so I find my hand sleeping over to the to the emptiness and feel my heart drop when I realized what I just done, habit becomes painful in our old age. I take a deep breath and force myself to my feet the fresh air instills a wisp of vigor and my heart beats again. It's been a long time and I know I need to move on.

Down the stairs and into the kitchen I passed the coffee pot and hit the button. The gurgles to life as I open the cabinet and pull not one but two coffee mugs down. Another habit that refuses to pass into nothingness. I shake my head, trying to clear memories and visions and returned her cup to the cupboard and close the door. A dash of milk and the pot is ready.

I turned to head to the front door and my eyes land upon the toaster. At this time of day it would be warming an English muffin, the small jar of apple butter waiting patiently to be dabbled up on the toasted muffin. I let out a deep breath again. Damn it, I didn't think you would be this hard.

Out on the porch I slide into the swinging bench, on my side, not in the middle, leaving enough space for another person to join me but never will again. I do my best not to look at the empty spot next to me but as if by some unstoppable gravitational force my eyes wander to that empty spot next to me.

It takes every fiber of my being but I am able to will my eyes away, and out to the hill before the house. The tall grass, long neglected, dances with the wind. Its ways and bends as the wind sweeps through it in beautiful waves. Atop the hill she stands in a white dress, here hair blowing softly in the wind like gossamer strands of silk.

Every morning I enjoy my cup of coffee and watch the ghosts of my memories as she dances on the hill, longing for the days when she had not left me. And wondering when we will be together again.
            
 .   .   .

This story was written in eight minutes. This story was completely written and posted on a mobile device.
Word count: 456

About the 8 Minute Writing Prompt:
The 8MWH is a habit forming program where your aim is to simply write something for eight minutes straight each day, over time this will become a habit. The goal is to provide practice with writing and thus make you a better writer who can put words on paper easier. I plan on posting a short phrase and image each day in the morning and later that evening posting my story. Due to the time limit these will often be incomplete or possibly even suck. If you would like to join me, post wherever you like and add #8MWH to your post. Please remember that your stories can be about anything and the writing prompt may be a title, a phrase in the story, or heck, not even used at all in the story. It is meant to serve as nothing more than an inspiration.

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