My Reader

November 19, 2009
By David Habib BRONZE, Clearwater, Florida
David Habib BRONZE, Clearwater, Florida
2 articles 5 photos 0 comments

My reader is a lonely, fragile, elderly woman who lives in a Victorian mansion,
soon to live in a deserted, putrid grave. She sits
alone, everyday outside on her mahogany rocking chair imported from Europe that makes a
sharp sound as if someone is being
choked. She is reading the
last thing that she will ever lay her
aged, deep sea colored eyes on. She stops, and reflects on her past life, the beauty of it all, her kids, husband, brothers, and sisters that have all passed away before her. She feels a sudden
ache of loneliness in her weak, cherry colored heart.
She quickly closes the book.
She then knows that she needs to rest, but is too
weak to speak or get up. She
closes her eyes, not realizing that it was the
last time that she will ever fall into a deep sleep again.

The author's comments:
This piece was inspired by a depressing, melancholy photo of a victorian mansion. I was asked to write about "my potential reader" of a poem, and I put this piece together.

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