“Keep yourself as busy as you can.” Anne said in a hauntingly empty voice. The words sounded recorded and overplayed almost to the point they became devoid of emotions.
She looked like a figurine sculpted to fit in that delicately carved rocking chair. Nobody could tell she wasn’t sleeping.
On her feet Emma sat kneeling on the maroon rug her hands gently rested on Anne’s knees hoping the touch would Evoke life into the sleeping soul of her ailing mother.
Dim light and dead air, the scene was oozing melancholy.
“And how does this become your answer to everything?” Anne’s voice juxtaposition of defeat and hope.
“This is how it is.” The answer clearly echoed failure of the ploy.
“And for how long??” She fought the annoyance as she didn’t want to sound disrespectful.
She knew it must have taken decades of ruthless oppression to silence this beautiful soul.
“As long as you can. If you get bored look for something else. Keep switching. But don’t let your brain wander, do you know what an empty brain does?” Finally a slight wave, some trace of life, a question.
“Makes you question?” Emma blurted innocently.
And it worked like a spell. A smile touched Anne’s face and it glowed, the room brightened. She kept her eyes closed enjoying purity of the moment.
“And then?” Emma felt encouraged to ask, maybe now she will see the light in the end of the tunnel that everybody talks about.
“Then what?” Another question, at least the voice had some pulse now.
“When it will be over?” This was turning into a never ending questionnaire.
“It will never be…” Anne said as a matter of fact.
It was time she breaks it to her shadow that was one generation behind her on the time scale. She knew one day she will catch up.
“It will never be over,” she breathed collecting all the courage she could before continuing… “your life will be…”
Words hung in the air, fighting to stay suspended. Until they caved in and suddenly crash on her.
The crow was witnessing tragedy slowly unfurl and his heart broke again.
The darkness of the night outside was way brighter than the pale murky lights of this monumental castle.
His black dry branch was comfortable than that fancy rocking chair.
Same pleading innocent questions
Same daunting hollow answers
Same majestic castle
Same rustic window
Only different women on the same straight path..
Copyright © 2018 stoneronarollercoaster – All rights reserved
For Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Prompt.