This is what loneliness looks like: I carry the possessions
of strangers so they can walk unencumbered down pristine hallways to depart or
arrive; to be welcomed by joyous relatives.
I’ve carried laundry bags and golf clubs. I’ve hauled eighty-pound suitcases. I’ve carried parrots in cages and bouquets of
flowers and even once a stuffed crocodile.
Janitors buff hallways and run rags down stainless steel banisters
before slipping away unnoticed.
Dust motes float across my vision.
Never never land.
Each time I’m handed a baby seat, I’m reminded of what my
life was supposed to be.
That day, I took Darcy to the train station. I carried the baby seat. She carried Jules.
They boarded the train and Darcy blew me a kiss through
dirt-streaked windows. Jules waved as
the train pulled away.
I never saw either of them again.
Ever since Darcy took away my daughter, people have drifted away. My in-laws; our friends; the neighbors.
This is what loneliness feels like: Empty expectations and
hollow pits. Ticking watches with no one
to wind them when they fall silent and still.
I have nobody.
But I still can’t shake my shadow.
And with every step I take, it steps, too.
And I wonder if shadows can really feel pain, or if, like marriage, that’s
just another child’s fairy tale.
This post was written in response to this weekend's Trifecta Writing Challenge. We were to write from 33-333 words based upon this photo prompt:
This was also linked up with Yeah, Write.
Labels: fiction Trifecta Writing Challenge