In answer to Bumblepuppies’s Blacklight Candelabra Challenge A Box of Chocolates
A collection of unique and separate chocolates forms
a greater whole. One rarely finds a single small piece of chocolate that ascends to the heights that the variety provides.
With that in mind, you will be writing a dozen mini-pieces in a single post. Each mini-piece should be 25-35 words and be self-contained. In other words, they should not form a dialogue, advance a plot, or otherwise interact with one another. However, they should be unique. You might vary the style in each one, offer viewpoints from 12 different perspectives, or devise 12 different formatting techniques. Whatever strategy you choose, the twelve pieces should look like a coherent whole when they’re juxtaposed in your post.
Why is love something we search? She wonders. It fills us, hurts us. It brings out our best or worst, causes joy and pain. What is this thing called love?
He turns around. She’s looking at him. He waves. She waves back. He loves her. He’ll kiss her when she comes to his birthday. He’s 7 after all. He can be in love.
She rolls over in her bed. Tangled limbs and sheets. She smiles. Today she’s 16 and he’s her first. Who knows whether he’ll be her last? He pulls her back, and kisses her. She’s happy.
The wheelchair is heavy. More than that, it’s what it means. But she wouldn’t leave. They said till death do us part. He’s still here. And she loves him. The accident changes nothing.
She is alone, praying; soon she’ll walk down the aisle. Her heart is so full she wonders if it might explode. She will marry the Lord. She’ll pronounce her vows; she’ll become a nun today.
He cries… he’d thought love was forever. They vowed to stay together till death did them part. But she’s gone. She fell out of love. The children need him though. He must be strong.
She’s perfect. He can’t find the words. Her hand wraps around his finger and, like that, she holds his heart. He’s in love. He’ll love her till the day he dies. His beautiful daughter.
He’s holding her hand. He’s loved her since day one. He kisses her brow; she’s lovely even now. He doesn’t let go. 63 years of love. Now she’s gone. He loves and misses her so.
She’s singing softly. I cling to her; I don’t want to let her go. But she puts me in bed and kisses my brow. I love my mother. For ever.
Their kiss was deep and good. They hold hands as they resume walking. People look away. Some stare. So what? They’re in love. Who cares that they’re both women? Love and let love.
She looks out the window; he’s there. Thinking. She wonders what he’ll do. What does one do? They love each other but she can’t have children. Will it break them? She fears it might.
She’s gorgeous as ever and her smile is telling. Everyone looks at her, but she’s watching me, only me. I want her to look at me that way every day of our lives.
Picture from Trenance Chocolate