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Aleksandra

PROMPT (19.02.2008) - All night

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Aleksandra

.......In front of my eyes, musty boxes of memories ...What can I do? My hands are shaking, my bones hurts, my heart - opened a mouth deep as volcano. I remember, then was one child next to me. And now just empty old chair with a box of memories on it. Just that and old lamp what reminds me that I am still alive.

The last time he told me:

......." You gonna dance on my weeding and hold my children." - I was smiling and jumping because of happiness. Ah we worked hard, with a sweat on our foreheads, but with smiles on faces. Then going home sharing a piece of bread and salt. And then sleep.

.......Long time it was the same. Day by day my body become more weak and weak. And then one day, a girl on my door. I surprised by her beauty and said:

.......-" come sweet young girl " Yes she was his girlfriend. I was happy to see them in love. But next day, a voice of craven scared me while I was sleeping.

....... " Bad messenger " - I thought. And yes, as always the cravens are right. He came on my door, and said:

.......-" I am leaving for far lands and one day I will come back for you, to take you with me "- My heart stopped to beat. I pushed the pain for later, and I smiled:

.......-" God bless you my child and be happy. "- I saw his tears too, and I just smiled with frozen, broken mother's heart. He went, and I was counting his steps, breathing the dust left behind.

.......It was on the same day like today, when he left and never came back. He called me once to tell me that he made a weeding, and he got 3 kids. I wasn't dancing on his weeding, I never met his children. 30 years passed over, since that sad day. And here is me, as old damned cuckoo with white hair, empty hands, prayers in my mouth

.......- " let me God to wait the day, to see him on this door entering, and then kill me because I deserve. I left my mother and I never forgiven her. And this is only what I got from her - a damn to never see my child. "

 

.......Yes this is me, alone in the dark and a musty boxes of memories ...

 

Aleksandra


The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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goldenlangur

Hi Aleksandra,

 

 

This is an excellent response to the prompt!

 

I like very much how you've used the title to tell a moving story from an aged mother's point of view. How her dreams of her son's marriage and children all carried out without her participation. Then, he disappears from her life and all she is left with is the memories! How tragic!

Yet again, the "craven" features as a harbinger of ominous news. Your use of a first person voice of an old mother gives your story a good twist and deep poignancy.

 

I think this is seriously good, Aleksandra! I really enjoyed this prose writing from you.

 

 

I hope you will write more!

 

 

goldenlangur


goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Aleksandra

Thank you so much goldenlangur. Your words gives me more courage to write more prose. It's my first try to do on English language so I am glad if it works.

 

Thank you for reading

 

Aleksandra


The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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goldenlangur

My pleasure Aleksandra! Your voice is strong and I hope prose writing will strengthen your own belief in your gift and voice icon_smile.gif

 

 

I look forward to more prose from you.

 

goldenlangur


goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Aleksandra

Thank you GL icon_smile.gif. It goes hard for me icon_surprised.gif But sure I am not giving up icon_biggrin.pngicon_wink.gif

 

Thanks again for your nice words.

 

Aleksandra


The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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Tinker

Hi aleks, This is a poignant piece. You really should write more things like this. And your prose is poetic.

 

aleksandra wrote:

 

I was counting his steps, taking the last dust from them.

 

This line is beautiful. Enjoyed reading this very much.

 

~~Tink


~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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Aleksandra

Thank you Tinker for your comment and reading this prose piece. I aways say, the prose is easier to read than write, and poetry is contrary - easier to write and harder to read. I try to make some prose and this is the first prose in English language.

 

That line what you quoted I like it too, but I changed a little and I made some corrections and a little review too. So here how is going that line, I think now sounds better and closed to that what I wanted to express:

He went, and I was counting his steps, breathing the dust left behin
d

 

Thank you

 

Aleksandra


The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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Larsen M. Callirhoe

you could make a book out of this. the details are excellent in your prose. again you carried me away to your world. loved it.

 

your friend vic


Larsen M. Callirhoe

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Aleksandra

Thank you my dear Victor, I am glad if this takes you away of your situation and mood. The book? ah who knows, icon_smile.gif I am just trying to be a part of this prose section icon_smile.gif bc I think it is so hard to write a real prose. As I said somewhere before, it's easier to read than write prose, not as poetry, harder to read than write. So I am happy if this worked for you.

You should try to write some. Come on...

 

Aleksandra


The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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