A Wilted Dream
This is for a 100 word challenge
This is my childhood dream. Before I understood what I was staring up at I wanted to be part of it. Twinkling lights created pictures in the blackness of space. They called to my young mind enticing me to explore their universe. Like all of us, what was important to me then has diminished as I’ve aged. The luster of the stars has dulled. What draws me now is one speck of light where a new year is being celebrated. It’s where I long to be, celebrating with those I’ve left behind knowing it’s impossible.
About the Creator
Mark Gagnon
My life has been spent traveling here and abroad. Now it's time to write.
I have three published books: Mitigating Circumstances, Short Stories for Open Minds, and Short Stories from an Untethered Mind. Unmitigated Greed is do out soon.
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More stories from Mark Gagnon and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Wanderer
Some people have told me that I’m this way because I was born under a wandering star. Others say my name, Cain, has cursed me to roam the Earth just as the first person that bore this name was. I’m not sure if one theory or the other is right. Maybe they are both right, but probably neither one is correct. I am more like a magnet that hasn’t been able to find that special piece of metal to attach myself to. I’m searching for that unique attraction that doesn’t seem to exist, no matter where I look, and it probably never will. So, I continue to wander.
By Mark Gagnonabout a year ago in Fiction
Two Jars of Honey and a Kiss
Lucas removed his shoes and socks, rolled up his pant legs, and waded into the water hidden behind a wild growth of willow, alder, and pine that shaded the river bank from the hot afternoon sun. Here, the river ran narrow and shallow and the water was clear and cool. Lucas cupped his hands, scooped up some water and threw it in his face. It felt good and washed the sticky dried sweat from his brow. Just a couple of hours earlier, he had been in town selling honey at the market, while sweltering the summer heat. It had been a fine day for him. There was a good market for honey.
By Gail Winfree5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
Did the protagonist already die and the heavens are not what was hoped?
What's that one speck of light and why can't they celebrate anymore?
This felt more like a prose than a microfiction Mark. It had a flow to it that felt very nature and dreamy to me! Nicely done!!