It’s prompt Tuesday again. For those of you who don’t know here is how it works. I post a writing prompt and my response to the prompt. Then, if you so wish, post a comment with your own response. Or you could even just post your thoughts about what you would have written.
Want to see some other prompts? Check out the Prompt Tuesdays link under Tags.
Prompt
Write from the point of view of a birdcage whose occupant just died. (Source: CreativeWritingPrompts.com)
Response
I feel so empty and alone. Gone, she is gone. Her lovely soft voice will never ripple through my frame again. Alone. Why, why must she be gone. What is this frailness that is life? I do not wish to endure the ages if I must hold with in me life, only to have it vanish in the blink of an eye. Gone, she is gone. I feel so empty and alone.
An unknown breeze swings me back and forth making my hook squeak. The paper at my floor rustles, still holding the droppings that once splattered with a constant tone. The pecking, the clawing at my bars will be no more. The weight of my only companion leaves a feeling like a noose around my neck. She is no more, leaving me with nothing.
ReplyDeleteWow Jen. That was great!
ReplyDeleteThis is good; I liked it.
ReplyDeleteRelief. All I feel is relief. For years and years the droppings have splattered across my base. In the beginning Darla put newspaper down to catch the mess, but over time she quit doing that. The pecking at my bars has been tireless. I grew so weary of the squeaking, and the swinging. The rust, the birdseed, the feathers. I've never liked mess. Or birds.
ReplyDeleteRelief. Now maybe I can get a fresh coat of paint and become one of those decorative cages on a mantle with fake birds. Or maybe just fake flowers. Silence, golden silence for the rest of my life.