Saturday Census Prompt: “Was it Just Last Week…”

Was it just last week when normalcy still reined, the dull one of getting up, boiling her egg for exactly six minutes, retrieving the newspaper from the driveway, dodging puddles in her blue slippers? Before her fall that landed her here, with a broken hip? To stare out a hospital window at a parking garage? She'd watch the tiny cars in the distance come and go, trying to block out the sticky patter of nurses' shoes in the hallway, their chatter that only made her feel lonely. She'd wait to see a tiny person exit their car. One to actually pause and look her way.


About Sandra

Author;editor of The Woven Tale Press at; mother; weaver
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8 Responses to Saturday Census Prompt: “Was it Just Last Week…”

  1. lissa says:

    I think I read this before but it’s probably not. I can picture it all. nice writing

    • Sandra says:

      You may have indeed read it before. That’s why I like these old-post hops; most people probably missed it. And it took a lot of work.

  2. I too can picture it all. Great writing in just 100 words.

  3. Sonja E says:

    Beautiful. You captured that moment so well.

  4. Anne says:

    You created the mood just about right and to think this was just a hundred words! Awesome!

  5. Excellent description that put me right in the hospital bed and feeling everything your writing painted for the reader… very well done !!! 🙂

  6. Oh.

    This brought a great lump to my throat.

    For many years I visited my sister in a nursing home.

    As I would walk down the hall, the yearning looks from patients in beds and wheelchairs would break my heart.

    When I left after each visit, I would wave gaily toward the windows. Perhaps someone would be watching and waiting.

    Perhaps someone needed that goodbye.

    It was only when I closed the door and was embraced in the private cocoon of my car that I would allow myself to drop the smile and cry.

    This was quite powerful writing.

    Bless you for sharing this.

    • Sandra says:

      Thank you, Jenny. As you may have noticed by now, I often am writing in the third person from my mother’s perspective; I’m going through emotional hell with her now. Meaning I love her beyond words really, she is my life muse and source of unconditional love, but she is fading and I am coping with that, along with anger and panic at how she has lost a grip on control over her own life. I am grateful for your simple prompts as they allow me some emotional release. Thank you.

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