Better late than never, here I come with my bowl of stew to add to the Friday Fictioneers buffet. I didn’t think I’d be able to cook up anything this week—too many other irons in the fire— but my Muse has been bustling around in the kitchen putting things together.
Our witty Hostess and Toastess for this pot-luck is Rochelle. She serves up blue frog links to anyone who wishes partake of the meal; these you can find over at her blog, Addicted to Purple where you’ll usually find her seasoning her words. (I’m feeling very metaphoric tonight. Is it full moon?)
Enough Steel Forges A Chain
“You’re trying so hard to run from the past, you’re going to miss your future.”
“I’ve made mistakes, Jeff. Major ones.”
“He hurt you bad, now you’re scared to let anyone get close to you. Scared of being trampled on again.”
“I have some important lessons to remember.”
“And you’ve piled up bad memories like these old staples.” Jeff grabbed the cup and trashed the clips. “Out with the old.”
Vonnie glared at him.
“A pile of steel can forge a chain, Vonn. And God knows you don’t need any more chains.” He smiled and held out his hand. “Still friends?”
This hasn’t been the most upbeat I’ve lived through. I started cleaning up my sewing room Monday and all the “To Finish” projects coming out of the closets threw me into a mini-depression centered on my main character flaw. Add to that Tuesday’s sudden appearance of outdoor bebittes in our bathroom, creepy-crawlies that needed dispatching. Ah, summertime!
I don’t handle multi-mess well; it tends to tower over me menacingly until I can’t see any light at the end of the tunnel. I wrote a short story yesterday in response to the prompt, but it felt as gloomy as I did. Still, I may use it some other time. But I dealt with some pressing tasks today and tonight while making supper this opening sentence came to mind. It seemed like something I might use in a story sometime.
I munched and mused, letting the rest of the story sort itself out. The paperclips might represent something undesirable stored up too long. Painful memories. I thought of those of us who have endured some abuse in our childhood and have had to — or are having to — deal with dark memories, yet not let them damage our future. I’ve left it open as to who gave Vonnie those painful lessons, but I think Jeff might help her through. Do you? Or will she fish the paper clips out of the garbage as soon as he’s gone?