Writing Bits

It is like a breezy illusion, this universe. One minute someone can be standing, right there, and the next minute they are not. Is there some kind of imprint that is left behind? The spot that I am standing at, right now, could have easily been tread by a Native American, a Cowboy, a Pioneer, or in fact any number of people, or even an animal, or dinosaur for that matter!!

Rooms, they are the containers of your soul. The character of a room changes with each occupant.

The room that she had been reclining in had been hung with various pieces of artwork, gathered from yard sales and thrift shops. She had placed them over the bare white walls, to cheer her up a bit.

Her most recent find a beautiful Alaskan flower, enlarged to show every magnificent detail. The radiant yellow and vibrant greens shone out, begging the viewer to escape into the picture frame.

She had taken a lot of thought for her surroundings, yet at the moment she scarcely noticed them. All she could think about were empty spaces.

There in the hallway, she stared at the corner of the door frame to the next room. He had proposed, right there! "Did he really stand there?" she thought "it is hard to conceive of it now."

She sighed and closed the book that she had been scanning, hoping that some of the words would reach her grief filled mind. "Was he serious! I can't really think that he was." She shuddered, from a bit of a breeze that had come in from the wintry window.

"Why would he want me? This complicated life? What did he really want, if not me?" She clenched her teeth, she knew, if he wasn't sincere then he had been talking from some mad crazed center of his brain that only wanted one thing. "You ruined me!! I cannot spend one day without thinking about you!!"

She tore herself away from her endless reflections and out she went to the hallway, briefly touching the wall as she passed, her memories a ghost that followed her. "Marry me, leave him and marry me!!" The whispered echo of his words drifted through her mind, too late, the speaker was gone.

She chuckled with bitter remorse that her path had been so hard, wasn't doing the "right thing" in life supposed to lead to some kind of reward, peace of mind, the irony stung.

(Stung again people... I started writing this last winter, I stumbled across this today. Don't feel too much in the mood to write poetry, so I thought I would put this bit up, before I lose it again.)