Transition

Jun. 23rd, 2025 02:44 pm
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[personal profile] tig_b

The caterpillar crawled slowly from its favourite tree,
driven by a force it could not understand.
Pushed on against its will.
 
It wanted to go back on chew on the leaves,
but an impulse drove it away.
 
Why? It wondered.
I don’t’ want to go.
Here I am safe from foes, from birds.
 
Here is good food and shelter from the rain.
Here are my friends,
the others born with me.
 
But on a new branch under,
 a leaf, it began to spin
and then crawled into the dark.
 
Days later it awoke.
And a bright blue butterfly flew away.





Tricia Williams © 2025

Reflecting after a death cafe meeting

Jun. 23rd, 2025 02:41 pm
tig_b: cartoon from nMC set (Default)
[personal profile] tig_b
My Friend

I looked at her peaceful face and wondered how she could be so calm.

How could the knowledge that she would soon die not force her into noisy wails and tears? Why did she not resent the loss of all those future years? There was not even time to make a bucket list, no time to visit friends or to hug family who lived too far away.

I asked, “How do you feel?”

“As if a great weight lifted from my mind, as if I am ready to leave behind the pain. My life had become one room, a bed, so many pills to swallow. What point was there is waiting? I would never be able to dance, to visit friends, to live as others. No, this is the best outcome for me now.”

“But I will miss you. I am not ready,” I cried.

“I am sorry for you. But I hope you will learn to be pleased for me. To accept this is my future, there is no other.”

I thought hard about her words. But I was only in the first stage of denial. Why had her doctors given up so easily?

I wanted to run down the corridor, to grab the doctor and insist he did more tests, tried a new drug, did a fifth operation. But she held me back with one word.

“No.”

Then she smiled.

“We must all face death. It is there for all of us. And I will greet him with gladness, only sorrowing for your loss, not mine.”

And she held my hand, allowing me my grief.

I will always miss her. But I will remember the love.


Tricia Williams © 2025

from the WIP

Jun. 14th, 2025 12:08 pm
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[personal profile] tig_b
The soft skirt swirled around her legs
falling gently to her feet.
She stared into the mirror,
thinking ‘is this it?’

But there were others.
What if she failed
to recognise the perfect one?
The only one.

The heap of discarded
dress filled the cubicle,
as certainty eluded her
and nothing was ‘it’.

She was exhausted,
as each dress became
just another question
How could she decide?

Then behind the pile
she suddenly saw it,
deep black velvet
reflecting her fears.

The perfect dress.
It fitted her just right,
that dress of midnight black
for a wedding she didn’t want.

Extract from the WIP

Jun. 10th, 2025 07:01 pm
tig_b: cartoon from nMC set (Default)
[personal profile] tig_b
One night

I heard a faint sound as I walked past a closed shop. So quiet I nearly ignored it but then it came again.
“Meow”
I looked around but could not see anything. Then I noticed a movement in the window.
“Meow”
A black cat moved from behind the mannequin to paw at the glass.
I didn’t know what to do, call the police, the fire service?
Maybe it lived in the shop?
“Meow”
I couldn’t just walk away; what if it was trapped?
I got out my tools, opened the door, and as the alarm rang out we both ran.

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carmiel

September 2010

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