Writing on the Water

(c) Arno Rafael Minkinnen


Deciding to live in your world is like letting myself drowning into a cold lake. It was not like this before. The years behind, we filled our world with laughters in every side of moments I could remember. And also, some tears that would dry up soon as we tried to hold on to each other’s hands again.

You were sitting on a couch and clutching a cup of tea I gave you. I smiled and sat beside you.

“It tastes really good,” you said.

“Just like you always said.” I smiled again.

I knew sometimes I got frustrated, because, you were colder than a bucket of ice now. I felt extremely alone when I couldn’t bear my emotion. I tried and tried to add a good memory in our life, to make you remember who we were, but it was like  writing on the water. It disappeared in a blink of an eye.

“And who are you?” you asked.

“I’m Tobias, your husband.”

But I never blamed you, dearie, you should know. It was not your choice for having dementia either.


Written for MindLoveMisery’s Menageri photo challenge #105







Sabrina’s Shadow

(c) Menoevil
(c) Menoevil

“Lick this wall three times.”

“Are you kidding?!” exclaimed Sabrina. She spoke to her own shadow, in the wall.

Three days ago Sabrina had a nightmare. As she woke up in the dim light, she saw her shadow running across the wall. Sabrina could see a flock of birds flying in the wall as well. Sabrina was not running in her room, and no birds there. Lately Sabrina hated her life, what a super boring life, she always thought. The shadow offered her if she wanted to trade for a while. It seemed so horrible yet alluring. Now, the shadow told her the way to trade. By licking the wall.

Then Sabrina’s shadow laughed. Sounded like a bell ringing. Sabrina got goosebumps somehow.

“I’m surprised you are quite smart. Yes, I was kidding,” said the shadow. “If you really want to, you should knock on this wall right after the sun goes down.”

That was so easy. Sabrina knocked on the wall three times. A second after that, she heard a strange sound as the wall painting a big black shadow and swallowed her into it. Sabrina is in the shadow’s world now. It had been a week. She was so happy, she could do anything; lying on the grass, chasing the butterflies, nothing to worry about. Besides, the new Sabrina in her room handled every work she’d had.

But she was getting bored. She just realized it. She was nothing but shadow. All the colors she could see are just black, white, and grey. It all seemed so wrong. She couldn’t feel happy anymore. This would be the time she stopped being a shadow and came back being Sabrina, she decided.

“Your life was a mess,” said the new Sabrina, that was Sabrina’s real shadow. “We can’t trade ourselves by now, give me some more time to fix your life. Okay, our life.”

“What? Stop pretending you are better than me.”

“That’s the reality. Our life is getting better in my hands.”

“Well, thank you.” Honestly, Sabrina agreed. “But what should we do to trade ourselves back?”

“Oh, what a stupid shadow,” murmured the new Sabrina as she wrote something in a paper, among the books.

“You are the shadow!” snapped Sabrina. She was getting angry.

“Of course I need to knock the wall three times like you did before, Sabrina. Now, be quiet. I’m busy, can’t you see?”

“It depends on you, then?” Sabrina sighed. She was so scared.

Time after time, Sabrina always asked her real shadow to trade theirselves back. But her shadow seemed really want to control her life, sometimes she was pretending not to hear Sabrina.

Sabrina’s shadow never had a plan to knock the wall three times from the first time she gave Sabrina the offer.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie photo challenge #59

Before the Afternoon Tea

(c) Kimerajam
(c) Kimerajam

Two birds circling above a small village that was being swept by the enormous storm. In the middle of a little meadow, there was a girl with a big leaf umbrella and a book, muttering. She stood firmly against the storm. Not far from there, the roofs flew, the villagers started to scream, holding everything that could prevent them being blown.

“What’s happening down there?!” squeaked the bird.

“She’s gone mad! I knew she’s not like any other human, I saw her coming from the fog!” answered the other bird.

“All I know she was a beggar, but I never saw anyone give her even one-cent coin.”

“Is she a witch? Probably she’s reading a spell!”

A few minutes later, the storm had gone as the girl stopped reading. She walked down a path to her cottage that covered by the bushes. The cottage seemed never been touched by the terrifying storm which had made the village so quite from people. People who had made her disappointed. She entered the cottage and left the door ajar. She was going to make her own afternoon tea.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge #55