In response to Friday Flash Challenge Kittykatbob‘s prompt Loss
And in response to the Writing 101 prompt Take a cue from your readers.
Remember the poll or contact form that you set up during week two to collect ideas from your readers? Write today’s post based on one of the ideas from your list. Be sure to give this reader a shoutout and link back to their blog.
If you don’t have any ideas to choose from, not to worry. Here are four passages you can choose from to get you going:
“I’ve always felt the brain organizes and computes while writing, but the body is the place where story lives.”
— Kathleen Winter, “Writing with the Body”
What does the line above mean to you?
“Our truest life is when we are in our dreams awake.”
— Unknown source, from a fortune cookie
- Have you ever felt awake, but in a dream?
- Have you received a message in a fortune cookie that moved you?
“A room without books is like a body without a soul.”
— Marcus Tullius Cicero
- Describe a life-changing experience with a book.
- Where do you like to read?
- Describe a favorite bookstore, library, or setting with books.
“Without music, life would be a mistake.”
— Friedrich Nietzsche
- Tell us about a time when a piece of music moved you.
- Do you have an all-time favorite song? Why is it significant?
- Compile a playlist of 10 tracks that represent you.
Cheri and the WordPress.com Team
“Don’t take the books,” she’d begged but they’d ignored her.
They had a job to do. It was nothing personal. He’d directed the men to take everything. It was his job. He understood some of her pain. She’d just lost her father who’d left her nothing but debts and these had to be repaid. The house was to be emptied of its contents. And it would barely cover what the late Sir Fairfax owed his creditors. In his will he’d requested that a couple of books be left in each room but the solicitor had advised against it. It was a ludicrous and pointless demand from a man who owed too much to have his request granted.
His daughter had obviously ignored this state of affairs and looked somewhat forlorn. What would become of her? He wondered. But that wasn’t his job to think of that. Still he couldn’t help stealing glance at the young lady.
She’d stood in the room as they emptied her father’s bookshelves, her gaze becoming almost vacant the more volumes being removed. She’d followed the men as they carried the last of the literature out, as if they held her together. In every room there were books: that he found bizarre. He’d never seen a mansion or a house that had so many in each room. And each time one of them was emptied, the young woman left it paler than before, her gaze more lost than it had been at the beginning.
She remained calm until they reached what was her room. She’d barred the door with her slight frame. It was pointless since one man was strong enough to remove her. When her room was cleared of its furniture and tomes, it seemed something broke inside her. He even fancied that a veil shadowed her turquoise eyes, that they became darker. She didn’t re-enter the empty place to take stock of the absence of her belongings.
Instead she followed them as if in a daze and just crumbled against the wall when they entered the library. No tears fell though. He couldn’t understand; these were merely books. No matter their subject, they oughtn’t be more important than the loss of her father.
“Soulless,” he heard her whisper. Probably a curse at him and his employees for taking everything she’d ever known. When he turned she had her head hung down.
“Sir, it’s the last of them.” Thatcher said as he carried the last of the books outside. As if this were the last straw the young woman fell on the ground. He made to help her up and was chilled to the core. Her eyes were veiled as he pulled her to him and he let go of her hand. She didn’t appear to mind, her gaze lingering on the empty bookshelves. She stepped away and turned from him as if she didn’t see him, as if he no longer existed. Could it be?
She caressed the vacant bookshelves searching in vain for the volumes that once resided there. As bared as these were, it seemed her body was now empty of its soul. Afraid he and Thatcher stepped back causing the wooden floor to creak. Her head turned, cocked for a moment and then they screamed! But never had the chance to leave.