To and Fro

April 24, 2018
By J.Michael BRONZE, Papillion, Nebraska
J.Michael BRONZE, Papillion, Nebraska
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The woman sat on the dark oak swing. The light shining on her rose-colored hair. Her eyes twinkling and glimmering, as joy kisses her scarlet lips. Her dress pulling, straining against the wind, being forced up and down. A hundred stories she falls into the protection of the weathered wood and rusted chains. The creaking and clanging only being overtaken by the squeal of laughter. A soft laughter, one you would want to curl up and sleep in. The upward motion leading to the same downward fall, then back up again. A crack followed by a thud, a gurgle, then silence. The crimson seeping into the dirt, as a new weathered dead oak tree was planted.


The author's comments:

Although this piece may seem like just the death of a woman, it is much more than that.


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