Tomorrow is a VERY big day in my little corner of the Universe- so pop in and out, I’ll be posting stuff all day long because….
IT’S GOING TO BE HALLOWEEN!!!
Tomorrow is a VERY big day in my little corner of the Universe- so pop in and out, I’ll be posting stuff all day long because….
IT’S GOING TO BE HALLOWEEN!!!
For Experience Writing: If These Bones Could Talk
It’s not the poor Souls who were left in the Plague Houses to die without the comfort of their family- their beloved dogs or cats or even something as simple as having the comfort of facing the dark unknown from their own beds that haunt me.
The idea that haunts me is that there is a Plague House ( or pest house ) that was built in the corner of a churchyard near a cemetery.
Instead of the dying drawing solace from knowing that just outside their windows, on the other side of their bedroom wall was their world and it was close enough to touch- and that maybe, just maybe they might be able to go back it.
In that world they had gardens, maybe their best friend lived next door, maybe their first love lived a few houses down, instead of those comforting thoughts, all the residents of the Cemetery Pest House knew for certain was that on the other side of that wall was a cemetery and that in time, that was where they were going to be moved.
The only thing on the other side of their walls now were boxes of bones covered in dirt and dead flowers.
I’m not sure whose idea it was to build the Pest House near a cemetery, but I wonder why- of all things- did it have a window over looking a graveyard.
Daily Prompt: Describe a family member.
He had light blue eyes
and a stocky build
when he was angry he would growl under his breath
sometimes he was friendly and loving and sometimes he acted like I wasn’t alive
but when I need him the most
Wolfgang has always appeared at my side:
Experience Writing Prompt: DEEP IN THE FOREST
Deep in the forest of marble and stone, the first thing that caught my eye as we drove through the cemetery was an upright grave monument that looked like it was about to fall over.
It was ornate and looked well cared for- all except for the fact that the ground under it was having issues and the monument was collapsing.
I decided to grab a picture of it because the light and the leaves were beautiful, and as I carefully walked around it I saw a tribute to a wife, her husband and to their daughter:
Maria was the only child of Amia and Lyman and she died when she was only 26.
She was never married, she had no children. She died in 1867.
Her father followed her in death 29 years later at age 81
Amia followed her husband 11 years later and at this point I thought that had Maria lived would have been 66 years old the year her Mother died. She may have even been a grandmother.
On that bright Fall morning, in that cemetery far away from where I live, I explored a forest made of marble and stone and it was decorated with leaves of red and gold.