Photo Story: What We Have Left
She lived fast drove fast died fast. Our father spent lamplit evenings preserving her, laying pictures and papers to rest in the cabinet, trapping them fluttering so she couldn’t leave us this time. But I’m in his office now, cold starlight falling upon dark wood, and it’s the right night for a release. A transcript full of C’s meets my lighter, then the stub from an electronic concert, the music that played as skyward wheels still spun. Grief sears like rage. If you’re going to burn then burn burn burn I yell as the black scraps become an airborne storm.
Photo credit: Erich Ferdinand
Liv,
You are an incredibly talented writer. This photo prompt was quite challenging and you brought beauty and passion to it. Well done! (P.s. – I graduated from UW-Madison in 1997. Land of the cheeseheads )
Tough one, told well. Excellent title, too.
This old Badger approves.
On, Wisconsin!