The Day She Relinquished Shingon
a micro fiction
They’d named him Haiiro before he opened his eyes. It was before the first summer rain, before the green moss had bloomed and secured him to such blessing.
His mother knew gray was the color of death ever since the old willow had died. Against a summer sky, nothing could be as representative of death as that tree’s corpse, and she carried its image with her to her son’s birth.
Haiiro.
How foolish.
Now, she visits Okunoin after the last summer rain. It’s verdant, intense. Pulsating with unseen life. As she turns to depart, she smiles. Haiiro’s eyes are open.
Photographer: Natee P.
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Thank you for reading! This is part of a micro fiction series where I take a photo and write a story inspired by it. Each story is 100 words.
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About the Creator
Mackenzie Davis
“When you are describing a shape, or sound, or tint, don’t state the matter plainly, but put it in a hint. And learn to look at all things with a sort of mental squint.” Lewis Carroll
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More stories from Mackenzie Davis and writers in Fiction and other communities.
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A nurse fed him an ice chip when I'd explained why I’d come. “So tell me about the glaciers.” He straightened. “It was a pine forest. But there was a massive tree trunk right on the edge of a cliff—a redwood. It reminded me of isolation. I don’t know why they cut it down.”
By Mackenzie Davis3 years ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Awww, this was such a wonderful story!
I LOVE ekphrasis! It’s my favourite way to write poetry and stories! You’ve added to your personal challenge by restricting your word count to 100. Well done my dear! 🙌🏻