All I wanted was to celebrate the season … beside the lake, beneath the trees … But oh no, your unceasing demands, like those of a nagging spouse, push me out of reverie and into crowded streets. Stand. Move. Walk. How can I wander when you track my every step? No vacant or pensive moods for me. No blissful solitude. You monitor and measure my blood oxygen and instill a fear that more than pleasure might fill my heart. I have decided to pound you to smithereens with a hammer. It’s spring. I choose to dance. Then go lie on my couch.
Swapan k Banerjee
28/5/2021 08:26:36 am
Your prose flutters and dances in the breeze, Elaine.
Sue Clayton
28/5/2021 08:45:17 am
If WW had lived in a time when smartwatches existed he would probably never have written about a crowd of golden daffodils dancing in the breeze. Your piece resonates with all poetry lovers.
Susan F. Reid
28/5/2021 01:27:29 pm
Elaine,
Jennifer Duncan
28/5/2021 09:17:16 pm
Really like the energy of this story. Great reminder of the value of just thinking and experiencing our environment.
Mary Wallace
29/5/2021 08:14:26 pm
This was clever and lots of fun. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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