MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “fiction”

Choose your outlook

We’ve been through so much already,” the little girl said, tugging on her father’s coat. “If someone offers us help, I say we take it”.

He looked at her. It was true, leaving your homeland with only whatever you could carry was a torment in itself, and a heavy burden for any nine-year old to bear. The series of misfortunes that ensued was something refugees were prepared for. Particularly those violently expelled from their own country. 

They had just met someone who promised to get them to safety. But after a couple of failed attempts to believe people who vowed the same, the father was now distrustful.

Not everyone is good”, he told her.

Her mother soon arrived, her eyes drooping from exhaustion. She took the little girl’s hand and gently placed her arm around her husband.

There is still so much good out there”, she hummed. “But life is how you want to see it”. “If you want to find the good, you’ll find it. And if you’re constantly looking for the bad, it’ll catch up with you”.

They all breathed a little slower now. The realisation of this truth sinking in.

We need to acknowledge that practical optimism is a much better framework on life than default pessimism”.

Let’s choose to believe that everything will work out”.

The flower truck

© Jan Wayne Fields

It was parked in a different neighbourhood each week. Its flowers were so fresh, their aroma oozed right into the windows of the nearest houses.

The middle-aged woman who ran this ‘business’ narrated how it all began from a single flower cut by her partner on one of their daily afternoon walks. “It was seemingly insignificant, but to me it meant the world”, she recounted as her cheeks blushed. “From then on, he would constantly bring me flowers, regardless of how small, they would always make me smile”.

So I started this truck. Hoping to make other people happy too”.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Luck and what we make of it

https://www.ikea.cn/cn/en/images/products/dracaena-plant-lucky-bamboo-spiral__0908921_pe594507_s5.jpg?f=xs

It was a seemingly ordinary day. Whatever ‘ordinary’ may be defined as. Because, although he had everything perfectly planned to the minute the night before, the next morning everything capsized. It took him seven snoozed alarms to finally crawl out of bed. There was no milk in the fridge for his breakfast, and when he reached the bus stop, he had to wait half an hour in the scorching heat, as there was an error in the schedule.

When he eventually reached his appointment location about an hour later, the person he was supposed to meet was herself running late due to an unprecedented occurrence (health-related). He could only wait. For another half hour. In the developing heatwave.

The day only slightly improved after the meeting (set to last for 15 minutes but turned into a 2-hour visit) ended and he rushed to see his girl. Lunch together appeared to alleviate things.

They even bought a lucky bamboo together, in the hope that their fortune would change hereafter.

There was a spare penny after the payment, which he decided to pass on.

During the evening, he rushed to the supermarket before heading home for some urgent work. The cash in his wallet was one penny short of the bill he had to pay.

The penny from the bamboo.

His eye twitched as he counted the coins.

Luck, they say, is something you make. But is it so? Is it the choices we make or the circumstances that occur? And how much do we impact everything around us in the end?

He sulked home, hoping the lucky bamboo would do a better job as of tomorrow.

The next ship

©GE

Sunset was her favourite hour. It was as though the world suddenly relaxed following a stress-filled day and the sky breathed a sigh of relief. It was evident in the atmosphere. You could feel the air more tranquil, more serene.

It was his favourite time for walking. Free from the heat of the morning, and with still enough light to enjoy the path.

Their course was by the sea. Water was integral. She had told him that since they first began searching for a common roof.

But now, the city chaos had become too overwhelming.

“Let’s just leave”, she said in a breathless exasperation.

He stopped in his step; turned round and gazed right into her eyes.

Let’s”, he said in all severity.

The next ship sails at dawn.

A sign of caring

©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

In an ideal happy-reality scenario, girls grow up to be their daddy’s princess. They then spend most of their mature lives seeking a prince who remotely resembles the king that raised them.

Perhaps that is a mistake, though.

We set off in life with high expectations. Which often lead to bitter disappointments.

But every so often, someone comes along who surprises us pleasantly. And in the very moment when you’ve given up hope, and surrendered to the belief that what you long for does not exist.

It’s the details that make the difference. Like a simple sign that you care.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Building patience

Patience is something we develop over time.

It’s not easy to build. Because just when you think you’ve got it all under control, something else happens to get you all worked up again. Life so happens to be constantly full of surprises, mishaps, misfortunes, and unexpected circumstances – both good and bad, that we need to always be prepared for any conditionality.

We are told to expect nothing to avoid disappointment. But even that is something that requires mastering. Because emotions are concerned, and they are the most difficult to harness. Excitement, above all, can get to your head. But so can disenchantment.

We need patience to allow life to play out before us. We can act on whatever we have control over, and everything else will develop per se.

Our lives seem better when we are mentally calm and relaxed. We can do that by building patience to develop that much-required serenity to deal with whatever comes our way.

And that is created progressively; brick by brick; day by day.

Giveaway love

©MCD

I have some good news”, she said, smiling timidly.

Surprise me,” he muttered.

They had just had a pointless disagreement and he was still frowning about the misunderstanding.

She was trying to liven the mood.

I won a giveaway!” She jumped in excitement.

He couldn’t help but smile.

He loved how when she got all excited she resembled a little girl; innocent, sweet, and enthralled with everything. The happiness was contagious.

He was expecting to hear of some cosmetic products, or something similar, as this is what was usually given away on social media.

What exactly?

A trip for two to Paris!” she exclaimed.

His eyes opened wide and he was lost for words.

Really?! All expenses paid? For the both of us?!

Yep! Get ready to fly!

And just like that, everything changed.

Paris was her dream location. It was the only capital city in Europe she had not set foot in.

He had promised himself if they managed to go there together, it would be the place where he would propose; to capture her heart forever.

Mutual desire

© Lisa Fox

The moral from the story of Rapunzel is that if there is a will from both sides, a way will always be found”.

She smiled in that sweet mischievous way of hers.

He looked in her eyes, trying not to crack a grin.

But there is more to that, no?

Just cling on to this part, though”, she insisted.

It’s clearly a concept of finding a solution out of a mutual desire for ensuring each other’s company”.

Her eloquence was one of the things that he admired about her, and which drew him further into falling in love with her.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Farm escapes

©Brenda Cox

The weekends at the farm used to be a drag as a child. She saw them as a chore; one she was forced to do, and often had to be bribed simply to get into the car and go there. Plus, the bumpy drive there was a nightmare for her stomach. But she nonchalantly endured it all.

What she would realise much later on, was how lucky she was to have these weekends in the first place. A countryside to escape to, and grandparents to spoil her.

It was only when she grew up that she would acknowledge their value.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

A flower for words

©Dale Rogerson

He left it there, tall, sturdy and fresh, in a vase decorated with a simple bow that made it stand out even more.

It was a simple gesture that would be greatly appreciated. He was sure of it, because he knew her too well.

He could even envision the smile lighting up her face when her eyes would catch sight of it.

He had to leave early that morning, despite the fact that she enjoyed being lazy in bed a while longer when there was no pressing obligation that forced either of them to jump out.

This was a compromise.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Post Navigation