When they decided to go their separate ways, she was devastated. She took a solo trip to the beach to try to reconcile herself to her new life without him.
Why were her friends and family freaking out about her trip before she went? She was trying to start healing.
She went for a swim. When her aunt came down to the beach, she was swimming underwater along the shore line.
Suddenly, there were police and an ambulance. They pulled her from the water.
Really? Over a failed relationship? They must not know her at all.
#fridayfictionwithronovanwrites Prompt Challenge #30 – Favorite Song
Song: Wild Horses by The Rolling Stones
She didn’t understand what it was about this man. It seemed that no matter what he did or said, she couldn’t find the strength to walk away from him. He was the special one, the one in a million.
She knew that he had been through a lot in his life. Many relationships. All had ended badly. Many great loves that turned out to be not so great. He was cynical, jaded, and took it out on her. She had to believe he didn’t mean to though that belief was starting to fade.
For so many years, she had loved him unconditionally, always remembering the life he had before she entered the picture. Maybe it was the life he still had. He couldn’t seem to accept anything pure or good.
Was what she offered him pure and good or was it selfish? She wasn’t objective about herself and couldn’t answer that question. There were times when she left that she was glad to be gone from him. She was more at peace when she was away from him than when she was with him. She always went back.
Wild horses couldn’t drag her away from her relationship with him.
His former life wasn’t the only problem. Her life contributed to the dysfunction in their relationship as well. She was needy and jealous. Although she tried not to be, she’d never had much positive reinforcement in her life. Then there was The Incident when she was physically abused. She couldn’t think about that.
Was it truly unconditional love that kept her with him? Was it something else, something darker? Was she afraid to step out into the world and take her chances? Was she going to stay with him, no matter what, because she was afraid something else would be worse? She was suffering abuse at his hands too. Emotional abuse.
Then, it happened. She didn’t know what “it” was, but one day, her emotions turned off as if they had been switched off. She looked at him and didn’t care anymore. She wanted to be away from him. Suddenly, she was free, but she had wasted so many years. She didn’t have much time left.
The wild horses that couldn’t drag her away were now carrying her away to her freedom. What about him? She couldn’t sacrifice herself anymore.
The elderly lady looked up and the shutters were open. Her heart skipped a beat. She had waited for this moment for 50 years.
She tried to pull open the door of the old, dilapidated building, but it was stuck. She pulled as hard as her old bones would allow and it popped loose.
The memories came flooding back. This corridor used to be light and airy and full of dancing children, including herself. That was so long ago that it left her breathless.
She got to the stairs and began to pull herself up by the railing. With every step, the past flashed before her eyes. Her father and mother waiting for her at the top of the stairs., Her sister racing up the stairs by her side.
The air was musty and the old woman had a hard time breathing. She tiptoed inside the sunny apartment.
Ghosts. She saw them all. Her family. Laughing and talking. She and her sister, so happy, so innocent in those days. She came here because she wanted some of it back, the innocence. Maybe it would bring joy to her life.
She found the boxes in one of the bedrooms. Her dolls. Her puppets. Her childhood books and records. As she looked at each item, she smiled and cried at the same time.
All that was left that was important were the ghosts.
Once upon a time, there were two children who lived in the country. The girl, Mary, was 12 and the boy, Eddie, was 10. They were neighbors and became the best of childhood friends.
Mary and Eddie lived in the forest with their families. One day, their adventures led them to some steps that went up from the forest into a small clearing with the forest on either side.
Every day, they would sneak up the stairs to the clearing and play one of their imaginary games. They usually played a game they called Explorer. They would pretend to camp at the clearing and explore the forest.
One day, they discovered the remains of a campfire. They ran off into the woods to see if they could find the campers. The children stumbled across two hunters who warned them that it was hunting season and they should stay out of the woods.
They were disappointed but there were always other games to play.
Many years later, Eddie was ill. He sat in his recliner at his home and his wife tried to get him to go to the hospital. Instead of answering her, he fell into sleep or perhaps a meditative state.
He told her this story, but in bits and starts. She thought he was hallucinating and called the paramedics. Before they arrived, Eddie finished the story, fell into sleep, and then he was gone. He left with the memory of his Glory Days on his mind.
Thanks to Ayr/Gray for hosting the #unicornchallenge.
She walked away from her home because she needed to think. Depression and anxiety were plaguing her. She felt like she was losing her mind. Her heart was sick.
She arrived at the path that led to the ocean. She started to walk toward the ocean. She wanted it to swallow her. Maybe then she could forget.
When she got to the sculptures, she stopped and admired them. A feeling of hope washed over her. She wanted to live, really live. After standing there, she turned to walk home.
She knew what she had to do.
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting #friday Fictioneers!
I awakened with a start. What had I heard? Oh, it was only Sophie, my German Shepherd dog who sleeps beside my bed. Wait! Sophie! Why was she whining? I leaped out of bed realizing my clock said 6:45 a.m. I usually took her for a walk on the beach by 5 a.m.
We walked outside. She pushed open the garden gate and started for the beach. I followed trying to stop her. Since one of her strides is equal to three of mine, there was no hope of catching her.
I jumped in my car. What else could I do? My dog was taking herself for a walk to the beach.
I pulled up in a parking space watching Sophie run gleefully around on the beach. As soon as I stepped on the beach calling her, a police car pulled up beside me. Sophie immediately ran to me, fearing I was in danger.
Ma’am, get your dog off the beach.”
Sophie barked at the officer. Her bad dog bark.
“Get off the beach with that dog,” he said in a loud, aggressive voice.
“Officer, if you would just give me a………”
What happened next wasn’t very pleasant. Sophie and I ended up looking through the bars of the backseat of a police car.
I was unhappy. The officer was unhappy. But Sophie? She had gotten to defend me from the bad police officer. Now if she can only figure out how to charm us out of jail.
The old lady trudged up the street to the church she had attended for more than 60 years. The light from the steeple caused the white church to glow. She climbed the stairs up to the steeple.
The violin was lying on the table. She opened a window for some cool air.
The old woman started to play. She played Horner’s “My Heart Will Go On.” A crowd gathered on the street. They waited for her to come out to praise and thank her.
The steeple went dark. She didn’t appear. They looked for her, but she had vanished.
The old house was going to be destroyed. Industrial development. She barely got there in time before it became a victim of the wrecking ball.
They stopped work for her so she could retrieve what she wanted. She had to be quick. She ran from room to room, snatching and grabbing.
She ran into the nursery and there were her books. Her childhood lived in those books. One of the workers helped and she packed them up. Nancy Drew. Huckleberry Finn. More.
She loaded them in her car as the memories battered her brain. Thinking of her family, she cried.
“It looks like a crypt,” he said to himself as he got off the bus. It was the correct address for the hotel his buddy had directed him to when he arrived in town. He had traveled across the country, the whole of America, to play with a band here.
He had no money, but his buddy said that wouldn’t be a problem at this establishment. He pushed open the heavy door. It was dirty and dark inside. It smelled. There was a hotel counter on his right with a bell and a dim light. He rang the bell.
A Goth-looking girl materialized behind the counter. She remarked they had been expecting him. She directed him to what she called a room, but it was just a space, with a dirty cot and a wash basin. The girl invited him to happy hour.
He sat down on the cot and thought about leaving, but he had no money. He wandered down the hall to the place the Goth-girl directed him to for happy hour.
He walked in to order a drink but stopped dead in his tracks. The people were all in Goth attire and makeup and they were dancing an odd dance. He had a bad feeling. He’d find somewhere else.
Grabbing his stuff, he went up to the hotel counter to check out. No one was there, but there was a small sign. It said, “You can check out any time you like but you can’t ever leave.”
Theme: Aging: Slices of Life Past and Present; Aging Issues and Financial Concerns
Aging and Aerosmith
Welcome to The Write Scribe, my blog, where I will write about issues related to aging, along with slices of life past and present, during the 2024 A to Z Challenge! I look forward to reading your blog posts and enjoying your theme during this Challenge. You can find my A to Z 2024 Challenge posts under the Challenges category at the top of the front page. I invite you to read the posts as you wish and I look forward to your comments.
Since my theme starts with an “A,” I thought starting off with some general comments about aging, and more.
There is only one alternative to aging and we know what that is. Since I’m not done in this world yet, I’ve had to accept this fundamental truth and move on with this aging business. I’ll have to tell you that I’m doing it kicking and screaming and not very graciously.
Younger people ask if, as you get older, you feel any different? I guess my answer is that it depends. If you can stay well, you might answer this question in one way, but if not, your answer might be different. Anyone at any age can become ill. However, it gets more likely as you move into your 60s and 70s. Speaking for myself, I don’t feel much different than I did at 35 except, perhaps, a little (or a lot) wiser. If only the young could have the wisdom of the old! I’ve wished that for my younger self many times.
As you age, you feel like you become invisible in the American society. Other cultures take better care of their elderly. In America, it’s all about youth and the concerns of the young. The elderly, at least in the modern era, are pushed aside as irrelevant and just a bother by many. Some of that changed during the pandemic. Employers discovered that they could depend on older workers and since the pandemic, that opinion has remained, at least to some extent.
Most people who are aging want to stay in their own homes and continue to pursue their own interests without becoming a burden to their children. To me, it’s a shame that parents have to feel like a burden although if aging parents can stay in their own homes, that is often best.
There are a lot of people who are aging who feel lonely. By the time you reach your mid-60s and early 70s, you have lost much of your family and at least some of your friends. You may be widowed. You may not be interested in socializing as much as in the past because your interests have changed. Add that to the likelihood that your friends interests have also changed and there is loneliness.
Some of my interests have changed, but basically my core interests have remained the same. For example, I still love the same music and don’t really enjoy the music of recent generations. Aerosmith, a famous rock and roll band that began in the 1970s, is still going strong, and is still one of my favorite bands, now as well as when I was younger. Steven Tyler, the lead singer, is a talented musician who has lived a long and colorful life. If you’ve never heard Aerosmith and Steven Tyler, listen to his song “Dream On” and see what you think. It’s pretty indicative of the baby boomer generation and how we grew up. Conservative parents, more liberal friends, and lots and lots of what seemed then like innocent fun. For the most part, it was!
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