She sat on the breakwater and hoped the sound of the waves would soothe her. His words hadn’t. “In between the clover and the dampened earth.” That’s how the minister described it. Sounded poetic. Nicer than “here’s where we buried her body.” But that was reality. Ma was dead. And no pretty words were going to change that.
PHOTO CREDITS TO MY FAVORITE HUSBAND
I’ve been a bit morbid lately. Perhaps I’m feeling my own mortality. Or maybe it’s the side effect of living in Trump’s world. But thankfully my own mum is alive and well, so this really is fiction. Therefore much thanks for the inspiration to the following:
Sammi Scribbles Weekend Prompt which was to use the word “breakwater” in exactly 58 words (accomplished!)
And to Putting My Feet in the Dirt for the beautiful phrase “in between the clover and the dampened earth.”
And to Linda’s SoCS challenge using the word or partial word of “ma.”
Visit their sites if you haven’t. They are FAB!