Monday, March 18, 2013

My Short Short Story for the Day



Kneeling by the pond, Helen closed her eyes letting her mind drift back. Was it really just a few months ago. It felt like a lifetime and only an instant. How strange the mind can be. Helen gently set the first pink flower in the water. Why was it so hard to move on? The doctors said there was no indication of physical trauma. The psychiatrists said there was no indication of mental trauma. But she knew what she saw, what she felt, what she went through. It was real, the pain was real, the fear was real. She couldn't explain why there were no indications of any of it. She gently set the second pink flower in the water. Her parents begged her to forget about it, to stop talking about it. Her boyfriend told her to move on, get over it. Her friends pretended to sympathize at first but soon stopped calling, visiting, texting until she was left alone. She gently set the third pink flower in the water. She watched as the flowers lined up, touching each other. Then they started to vibrate ever so slightly. Helen stared until her eyes grew so dry she had to blink and when she looked again it was there. The white flower. Exactly as it had been before.

“Oh, no.” Helen whispered. “Not again.”

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