Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

Reminiscence

Empty air in an empty room.
Floating sounds on a cold breeze.
No emotion, no color;
no light, no joy.
Numbing cold climbing up trembling limbs,
filling space with pain and shards of that cold, cold ice.
Pictures in unfeeling wooden frames staring down,
watching and waiting for hope's return.
A beautiful, golden landscape brings me back
to memories of hot trails.
Glowing red, seeded strawberries,
juice dripping down rosy and youthful chins.
Quiet moments, listening only to water
crashing across a bank of seedy and warm-to-the-touch sand,
heated as in an oven by the ever-present sun
that turns skin red with its relentless rays.
Whole days spent in ecstasy,
that peaceful setting bringing peace to broken hearts.

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