MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “memories”

The sound of rain on a tin roof

red-apple-rest-jhc

©J Hardy Carroll

Since they moved, they hadn’t been to their old neighbourhood. It had already been three years. They found themselves on their old street by chance, having taken a wrong turn.

It was still there, only seeming abandoned.

Their old studio. The one where they first met and became intimate. Where they shared their dreams and learnt about one another.

The one where they would crawl into each other’s arms to sleep on nights when their lullaby was the patter of rain on the tin roof.

Some sounds will always be associated to certain memories no matter how much time passes.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

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The palace of her heart

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©Sandra Crook

It was when she entered that building when she truly became a queen. That was the day her beloved partner taught her to dance the waltz.

It was at an official ball of the French embassy to which he had been invited as an external collaborator. She felt it was an honour simply to have been asked to escort him.

But he wanted more.

He always did.

And after their majestic-fairytale-ball, he did what every little princess dreams of: he fell onto one knee and presented her with a little black velvet box.

She had officially become his queen.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

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

The secret of the clock

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/8b/21/73/8b217389a0dfee194b8779f5664126af.jpgWhen the house was silent, it was the only thing that could be heard. But even above the voices, its ticking sounded strongly, giving rhythm to the time that passed. It alerted its co-residents as to the time of day, the minutes and hours that passed by. But it also reminded them of that wonderful day when they first bought it and made it an intrinsic part of their home.

The couple that owned it was one that had already been together for half a century and continued to love each other as deeply, truly and wholly as the first day they met. The cuckoo clock was a souvenir from a winter holiday in the Alps. One where they fully enjoyed the festive season, the snow, the joy and the glow that the decorations brought along, and the carefreeness of becoming a child again. It served as a reminder that time is the moments you spend enjoying your existence.

As the cuckoo sprung out of its little home upon every half hour, the people of its home became all the more aware of how quickly time passes. Of how important it thus becomes to live every moment as it comes, to embrace the people surrounding you, to share the love in your heart, and to allow your subconscious to be without remorse and unfulfilled ambitions.

The cuckoo called out to them to live, and not just exist. Because it is the memories of a life well spent that fill our hearts with the energy to carry on.

 

Happy New Year, make it the greatest one yet!

Appleopolis

sliced-appleIt’s remarkable how the most memorable moments are created when you least expect them. For example, that specific day when Josh woke up with a headache that accompanied him throughout most of the day. He was suffering and felt that the day would be wasted unless he could get rid of this pain that was drumming his head. It was that precise day when his girlfriend had booked tickets for them to visit the new entertainment resort in town.

It was called Appleopolis because it had something very peculiar and particular about it. The main food on offer was apple slices. But not just any apple slices, they were cold, freshly cut, peeled apples with a stain of honey and traces of almonds. What was even more unique about them was that they brought out your other personality. Those traits of your character that you suppressed and kept subdued inside of you.

A few minutes after Josh had savoured these apple slices, he almost forgot about the headache he had and ended up enjoying the day to the utmost. He did not remember when was the last time he had laughed so wholeheartedly; when he truly allowed himself to indulge in the moment; to recharge with experiences; and to simply live the day for what it was – an opportunity to have a good time with a loved one.

By the end of the day, the headache was gone. And Josh was feeling rejuvenated.

Fruit – just like any moment – can be adventurous too, as long as you let yourself loose to experience whatever happens, without plans, without programming, without too many expectations.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Subdued

The rusty boat

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©Georgia Koch

It was left stranded by the lake. A wooden boat, which once hosted their dreams of a life together. It had been the seat of their soft embraces, their loud laughs and their endless conversations. Now all that was left was a reminder of what could have once been.

Constantine could not bear to let it go. He knew it was worse having it there, a daily reminder of her, knowing she would never return. But he simply could not part with it. He preferred the pain of remembrance than forgetting that he once had touched upon his heart’s desire.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Those little life moments

http://www.travelagentcentral.com/files/travelagent/nodes/2013/42654/carnivalmarketing1.jpgRemember when as a child you make list of things you want as presents for your birthday, or any other potential occasion? Remember how easy it is to get upset about material goods – about not having them, about losing them, about breaking them? Remember how easy it is for such occasions to ruin your mood? And then, later on, you feel worse that you allowed such instants to take complete control over you?

It is only as we grow older that you realise that the point of life is to appreciate moments not things. Because it is in fact the little moments that make life big. Those moments you spend with your family and loved ones. The ones that take your breath away, when your stomach muscles ache from all the laughter, when you brainstorm for ideas together, or begin to examine insane theories, or engage in long-drawn discussions that only end because someone has to go to the bathroom. It is the moments spent making each other smile and thinking that there is nowhere else you’d rather be. It is those exact moments when – at this time and age – you forget to look at your phone.

It is certainly true that sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory. It is when you begin to miss things that you acknowledge their worth. So as long as you still have time, the best thing to do is manage it as best as possible, to reap as much as you can out of the moments that make you happy.

Don’t wait for those moments to come. Create them. All it takes is something small – a thought, a gesture, a random act of kindness, that is enough to make someone feel complete and a life worthwhile.

The time we never had

Siamese-cat-walking-away-Stock-PhotoHere we are, trying to live the present as it comes. Desperately trying to seize the moment, to make the most out of every opportunity that lingers in front of us. We try to convince ourselves that we are doing the best we can with our time. That we are not letting it go to waste, because that would be a shame.

But deep down we know that nothing can beat a ticking clock.

Whatever will come, will do so either way. All we can do is live, so as to say that we experienced everything we could in the timeframe we had. That we sucked the juice out of life and enjoyed it. With no regrets. Other than the (more) time we never had.

People come in and out of your life constantly. Even with them, their time is always limited. Even if it is with a pet. More so when it is with a pet. Because, sometimes it turns out to be more than that. More than simply an animal, a friend, a companion. Cats are usually the ones who own you. They tie you down without you even realizing it. But you don’t mind. You actually enjoy it and are all the more grateful for it too. Because you know that this bond is for life.

Three years ago today, that specific time was up. At least in this world. That eternal bond doesn’t break. You promised it to each other and you know it. That bond is forever. No matter how quickly time flies. No matter how much more time you wished you had.

Time flies over us, but leaves its shadow behind”. – Nathaniel Hawthorne

Do you remember?

Memories“Do you remember that time at the lake, when you fell and as you sat on the frozen ice it broke, and when I came to help I fell in? We were laughing so hard, we had forgotten all about how painful it was!”

                “No. I don’t remember.” Her face was cringing, as she desperately tried to recall the memory.

“Do you remember our first dance? It was that song you still love; it was during a full moon, during our dinner at that French restaurant you chose. You were wrapped in my arms and looked into my eyes, and that is when you first told me you love me. Do you remember? I was in tears when I told you back how much I love you too.”

                She began to cry. She could not remember. No matter how much she tried, her mind was blank. It was as if this all happened in a movie she once saw and now had forgotten. Her head hurt from trying too hard to remember something that was no longer there.

“Do you remember the time you told me you were truly happy? We had gone sailing and a miscalculation on my part – let’s call it that – caused the boat to topple over. We fell into the sea and you began to splash around, jumping all wet and soggy over my shoulders and grabbing me so tight. I could feel your laughter resonate in my chest.”

                “No,” she said tearfully. She could not remember the incident at all. She remembered nothing.

On the contrary, he remembered everything. Every detail. Every experience. Every feeling. Every laughter. Every tear. Every moment. Every word. So vividly.

He always thought memory was a choice, but after her accident, he began to reconsider this perception. It was not her fault. It was not as if she chose to forget.

But he didn’t know what was worse: the fact that he remembered everything, or that she remembered nothing at all.

The empty chair

armchairIt feels strange to enter a house, look around, see and feel the presence of the people who live there but know that some of them will never return. It is an odd feeling to look at their favourite objects – like the large armchair that dominates the room, and realise that you will never see them again being there with them. The feeling struck Ariana the minute she walked into the house. She had just said her last goodbye to her grandfather. The grandfather who raised her when her parents were overworking themselves in order to secure a decent living for their family.

She had held on to everything so well throughout the four days of his passing, the funeral service, and the condolences. She had managed to limit the demonstration of her grief to a few tears that escaped from her welled-up eyes. She was holding it all together quite well.

Until that moment when she walked into her grandmother’s house. Her grandmother was either hiding her grief all too well or she had made her peace with everything. After all, she knew better than everyone that this man did not deserve to suffer so much. It was better this way. He was relieved and she was calmer now that he was somewhere better. At peace.

Ariana could not bear to see her grandfather tubed-up. Neither of her grandparents allowed her to visit too often for this reason. It was better that she maintained in her head the image of the strong, resilient and active man who had raised her, who chased after her in the yard when she was small, who surprised her with extravagant gifts from his trips abroad, who consoled her when she was heartbroken, who made her laugh even at the most trivial things. That was the person she should lock up in her memory.

In the middle of the living room, facing the television set, there was a large embroidered armchair. It was her grandfather’s favourite and he had exclusive rights over it. When she was very young, Ariana would crawl up in his arms right in that chair and fall asleep, after which he would carry her to bed, the nights she would stay over. Ariana loved her grandparents to pieces and now a full-grown woman she still felt the need for them to be present in her life. But when she witnessed that empty chair, something instantly cracked inside of her and she stood in the middle of the living room facing the chair, the tears streaming down her cheeks. All her reserved grief suddenly caught up with her. In a silent overwhelming flood of tears.

She placed a single red rose and a large stem of white lilies on the chair, securing that no one would sit there. This was his place and at least for that day it should remain so.

In time, she would manage to view it in a different perspective. But for that day she had to accept that sometimes it is better to grieve and let it all out. In the end, it is all part of the healing process. It helps you move on and never forget.

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