Was there more to life then getting up and going to work and coming back home at the end of the day and sitting around for a couple of hours and going back out and doing it all over again?
Darlene Murphy used to hope there would be a break in that dull routine, just one little crack that would allow her to break out and escape and maybe see a little more, do something extra like get her nails done or maybe stop off at that bakery and try one of those cupcakes that had a small strip of candied bacon on the top.
It never happened though- not for Darlene Murphy who spent her nights working to make ends meet and to keep body and soul together just so she could do it all over again the next day.
Something had to change and on a Saturday it did.
On that evening on her way to work, she stopped by the closed for the evening art gallery on third and pressed her face up against the glass.
Ghostly sculptures haunted the dimly lit gallery and Darlene, who didn’t like sculptures of any kind found herself not hating these.
These sculptures were marble- twisted and tortured until they were forced into delicate forms that hinted at the human shape. The act of creating these figures must have been brutal.
Darlene could appreciate that. She understood it.
She held her pale hands up to her face. ” If you could talk ” she told them ” I’d be a dead woman.”
Darlene put her hands down and said to the spot in the window where her reflection should have been, ” Again.”
Risk for a Random Challenge-Write 10 random sentences and put them into a paragraph.
My devil duck is dusty today. Seafood can’t kill you, can it? What big teeth you have. Cow says moo, dog says woof. There’s a dead guy at the door for you. I’d sell my soul for a cupcake. I tried to run it down, but it got away. Are we alive yet? The pond out back is on fire. I can’t stop dreaming about having nightmares.
I took this picture shortly after two members of my family had passed away within a week of each other, my dog had died unexpectedly ( death, no matter how we try to prepare ourselves for it’s arrival is never really ‘expected’, is it? ) and with those three deaths my world broke apart into a tiny little pieces.
I’ve never been able to find them all again, let alone repair the damage.
I think this picture captures that time in my life and memorializes it perfectly.
It’s a fitting gravestone for a life that no longer exists.
If she stopped her car right now, if she turned off the engine and got out at this exact moment and went into the diner would she find what she was looking for? Would she find adventure and sin, would there be roadmaps at the counter that were old and full of ghost towns she could haunt? If she got out now and walked into the diner would the moon wink, would the crows scream would she find her ending or beginning if she stopped her car and got out right now.
I think we know what our destiny is, that’s what we are afraid to face, I think that’s what holds us back sometimes.