MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “dailypost”

The rain of fate

ted-struts-in-the-rain

©Ted Strutz

They had planned this trip for weeks and they were determined not to allow the weather to change anything. They had packed everything and filled up the car, persuading themselves that they would have the time of their lives.

The rain evolved from tiny drops to thunder and hail.

They were told to turn their lights on and be extra careful at the harbour, particularly when entering the ship.

The sea itself became restless.

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea?” Matilda already began to worry. Perhaps destiny did not want them on that ship.

It’ll be fine,” he replied.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

The value of Joy

http://i0.kym-cdn.com/entries/icons/original/000/019/227/Inside-out.jpgWe all have a few voices in our head. They’re the ones that come to you when you’re fretting over a decision to make. Or when you’re in a fight with someone; when you’re too stressed to think straight. Or most of all, when you’re sick and too exhausted to move.

Our lives would be so much easier if only Joy was in our head. Jumping up and down with excitement. But we all experience periods of Sadness, Anger, Fear and even Disgust. They are all part of who we are. And they are the reasons why we appreciate Joy even more, and the moments we spend being happy.

It is during the moments that life strikes you down when you value the times when you are at your best and most upbeat. But it takes a lot of inner strength to get there, and support from those around you and not just the voices in your head.

Work (a) fortune

fatima-fakier-deria1

©Fatima Fakier Deria

You should be as lucky to work at the docks”.

It was something he heard his uncle constantly say, whenever he saw him once or twice annually. As a young boy he looked up to his favourite relative because he would always have an interesting story to say. Rather a bunch of them. He made life seem so spectacular, so adventurous, so….worth living.

But it was only when he grew up and actually got a job supervising the deliveries of a container ship that he finally understood what his uncle meant.

Life at the docks was different. It was simply…more.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers.

Also part of Daily Prompt: Fortune

The forgotten mansion

gateway-jhardy

©J Hardy Carroll

It was this time of year a few years ago when the mansion’s garden sprung to life as the flowers and tress bloomed, splashing the entire neighbourhood in colour and granting surrounding residents with a sense of renewed optimism.

The silver gate gleamed in the sunlight, and was almost always open, welcoming guests into this “hint of paradise”.

But then it happened. As if a dark cloud settled over the mansion; everything crumbled. The garden was abandoned in sorrow, and the gate was closed.

The mansion was now left deserted, with only the memory of the life that once was.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

When time stops

rope bridge sapa vietnap“Come on!!” she bounced impatiently in front of him, her face beaming with excitement. The adrenaline pumping in his body made his heart feel like it wanted to pounce out of his chest. He looked ahead, trying to avoid looking down.

A rope bridge extended in front of him. It was everything but what you would describe as ‘safe’. But this is what she described as “an adventure”. “Something different; something spectacular; something out of the ordinary,” she had told him.

Come on!! It’s either this or skydiving!”

“I’d much rather do the latter at the moment,” he replied trying to contain the tremor in his voice.

“Well, if a step breaks on the way we might do both!” She joked, but deep inside she was as scared as he was terrified.

He paused for a moment, allowing himself to inhale the amazing scenery that surrounded him. It was all so serene; so quiet; so calm. It was as if time had stopped.

That is how he always felt with her. As if nothing and no one else mattered. It was a record for him. Falling so deeply and feeling so much in such a short time. But it was one he was happy to break again and again if it meant being with her and experiencing so much more than he could have even imagined before she came along.

“Come on! It’ll be dark soon.” She extended her hand as she pranced ahead bravely feigning a first step.

“Wait!” he called out.  He took her hand and aligned himself beside her.

Together.”

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Record

The loudness of insecurity

girl-umbrellaIt was the first time Max had found himself in a psychologist’s office. He was postponing it for too long; he needed someone to listen to all the things that had accumulated inside him and were causing him stomach aches. The main problem he had to face was that he cared too much – he over-thought and over-worried about anything. Maybe this doctor would be able to show him how to care less, or at least how to not allow things to affect him as much.

Outside in the waiting room was a sign on the wall, a blue canvas with the inscription “Confidence is silent. Insecurities are loud.” It resonated with Max, as he thought about all the people in his life who annoyed him the most and who he wrongly permitted to distress him – they were all people who claimed center stage, those who thought that everything should be about them, who adopted an attitude close to that of a bully, and who pretended to mask their low self-esteem in (often overly) socialization.

For an hour, Max poured out his feelings to the person he had just met sitting across him in the small, yet cozy, room. He found himself telling him stories and emotions that he had never even admitted to himself. Psychologists, he realised, have a way of making you feel comfortable enough to share your inner most thoughts without dwelling too much on what you’re saying.

When the psychologist’s turn to talk came, Max took out a small notebook to write certain things down. They may have been just phrases, but they would help him in changing his own attitude and facing the situations he was forced to deal with on a daily basis.

“Insecurity is an ugly thing. It makes you hate people you don’t even know. More so, insults are the last resort of insecure people with a crumbling position trying to appear confident. Insecure people seek approval. They try to talk everyone down so that can feel superior. Don’t allow yourself to fall into that trap. Try, as much as you can to ignore them. Just don’t interfere in their lives so that they won’t interfere in yours. Remember, you only give them more power the more attention you devote to them. So simply turn the other way. Demonstrate your own confidence by shying away from the spotlight; let it chase you, not the other way round. Do something different instead: build people up, remind them they’re worthy, tell them they’re incredible; be a light in an often too dim world”.

Max left the office feeling uplifted. Sometimes, all it takes is some words of encouragement to view the situation in a different aspect.

Resisting the mind

roger-bultot-flower

©Roger Bultot

“It all begins and ends in your mind,” she once told him. “What you give power to, has power over you”.

Right now, he was fighting not to call her. To tell her how much he missed her and wanted her back.

There was still snow on the porch outside. She would have been thrilled by it.

And her orchid by the window was waiting for her too.

He stared at the dials on the phone; Ralph Waldo Emerson had said, “we gain the strength of the temptation we resist”. But he did not feel any stronger. Quite the contrary.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Also part of Daily Prompt: Resist

Find that one

heartFind someone who makes your heart smile

Someone who makes you love the weekends

Who lets you know that you’re constantly on their mind

Who will make distance seem trivial because they’ll drive from the other edge of town at any moment if necessary simply because they missed your smile

That one with whom you can joke and laugh even during your most intimate moments

Who makes you feel like the special person you are

Who chooses you each and every time and doesn’t expect a reward for it

Who surprises you and isn’t afraid to show how much they love you

Who isn’t ashamed of certain public displays of affection

Who makes plans with you and shares their dreams with you

Who loves you despite your faults and even because of them

That one with whom you can talk all night about anything and nothing

Who makes time even when there seems to be none

Who gives you all the attention you deserve even when you don’t want it

Who can read your mind before you speak it

That one who makes a sunset seem like the most majestic thing on earth, simply because you’re watching it together

Who tells you they’re on their way and you find yourself counting the minutes for their arrival with a racing heartbeat

Who makes any place you’re together a home

Who can admit their at fault and say their sorry; who won’t allow you to stay mad at each other when you fight

That one in whose hugs you fit perfectly and in whose eyes you get lost

Who kisses you and you can feel their smile on your lips

That one who clicks with you in every instant

And who makes your heart grow stronger every day simply by being there and sharing their life with you

Find that one who makes you fall in love deeper with every breath you take.

The things that matter

pink-rose

@MCD

The day she met him she had found a penny on the way to the store outside of which they were to bump into each other. She thought it was good luck and gave it to him for their three-month anniversary. She told him it might be silly, but she enjoyed looking out for all the small details that for her made a difference. She kept souvenirs and memories of their outings, even dried-up flowers he gave her, in a small box in her nightstand. She felt they granted a special energy to their relationship and strengthened their bond.

He didn’t really pay attention to the penny and it got lost. Or he might have even spent it somewhere; he didn’t remember. He wasn’t the type of person that gave attention to material goods. He felt people and the time spent with them were more important. He tried to offer her as much of his free time as he could. And he tried to please her as much as possible.

But something always seemed to go wrong.

On the day they moved-in together, she found a penny outside his door gate. She gave it to him as a token that it would bring them luck in their new endeavor and in sharing their lives. She found it a few days later still on the TV table where he had left it. She smiled, thinking that he valued it too much to spend or lose. But a few days later, the penny disappeared. And so did her optimism.

He wasn’t too much of an organiser, often leaving things lying around the house for days, even scattered between tables and drawers. He complained lack of time was the perpetrator. And he could not understand why she made such a fuss over insignificant stuff.

She felt he didn’t care enough to cherish the things she brought him.

He felt she was becoming too quirky, too hard to satisfy.

She was about to leave in tears, when he walked into the bedroom, opened the top closet door and brought down a rectangular silver frame. He handed it to her and said, “I pay attention to the things that matter; and that means having you. That’s all I need. That’s all I want”.

He had framed the note where she first wrote to him that she loved him.  She had given it to him the night of the day she gave him that first penny.

Every story has two sides, you just have to have a mind that is open enough to see them both.

The homeless keyowner

http://gretchenrubin.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/keyswhere.jpgWhen Oralia was a young girl, her grandmother had given her a set of keys as a present. She told her that she would spend all her life trying to find a lock, so she might as well be prepared. Oralia didn’t really understand what it meant, but she was proud to own something so significant.

When she grew up, she had the habit of carrying with her sets of keys – be it for her home, the storage room, the office, even her closet doors. For some reason it made her feel important, granting her a sense that she was responsible for something so significant.

When the economic crisis broke out and homeless people began to appear more abundantly in the city streets, Oralia was saddened by the thought that apart from not having a roof over their head, these people didn’t own any keys.

One day, however, the unimaginable happened to her. She got locked out of her own house. And she couldn’t find the keys.

She had left her precious set of keys on her desk at the office that evening, when in a rush to get home, change and meet her friends at the movie theatre. The office door locked automatically and she was not the last to leave, so she was not concerned about that. But when she reached the front door of her apartment building, she felt her blood freeze in her veins.

City life was so asocial and distant that she didn’t even know any of her neighbours who could buzz her in. But even if she did get into the building she couldn’t enter the apartment. And she would have to call a locksmith to change every lock, from the apartment door, to even the closets so she could access her belongings. It was a nightmare she would rather not even think of.

So she decided to go back to the office instead and retrieve her original set of keys.

On the way, she saw two homeless people, one snuggled in a quilted blanket on a park bench and one sitting at the steps in front of another tall apartment building.

She no longer felt sorry for them not having a set of keys. It wasn’t the keys themselves that made them important; it was what they unlocked. And that is what her grandmother meant all those years ago.

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