pocket: a 100-word story

after Kimberly Blaeser’s When We Sing of Might

at 3pm, the sun wears my 20’s feet. unsure how bright to glow yet certain that the west exist to swallow it like a sea’s wide mouth.

i am almost 30. as i blow more candles, i find myself ageing like my mother and the mothers before her. the mirror often shows I dress in their stories patterned and purple as night.

Maya Angelou once said “i come as one but stand as 10,000”.

I am on my own, in a foreign land with a pocket filled with my mother’s prayers – thousands of suns unyielding to gravity, above, over me.

©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

35 thoughts on “pocket: a 100-word story”

      1. Please don’t worry, I found out out this signing up thing for readers recently and it is annoying, so am looking at moving my account somewhere!

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Rosemarie,
    This lifted me so profoundly in its light, the light of “being” in the afternoon, the candle light, the light of those who have gone before, but especially, “my mother’s prayers – thousands of suns.” Simply put, profoundly felt.

    Liked by 2 people

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