Wednesday's Words on a Friday


The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles. Sadly, Delores has now closed her blog forever due to other problems.

The aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.

If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along and read it.

This month the prompts are supplied by Margaret Adamson and Sue Fulcher and can be found here.

This week's words/prompts are: two photos, taken by Bill Dodds, which I have included in my story:


Every day for a week, the young boy had been coming through the woods, finding his way unerringly, though he had never been here before. Always wearing the same blue jeans, the same red jacket, with a hood. I believe they call them hoodies these days. But he always stopped near the giant firs. 

Afraid to come any further, he would stand by the stump and watch the glade. Our own private little cemetery. These weathered old headstones were all that remained of our family. These and the firs, which had once been a Christmas Tree farm. We raised other things of course, vegetables, chickens, a couple of pigs. But all were long gone now and no one came here anymore. The family had moved away to the city after the youngest of us had been buried here. The cabin fell to ruins, the firs grew tall; no one had wanted to buy the farm after several of us had been 'seen'. The woods were "haunted" and people stayed away.


The first time the boy appeared, I had been 'out' and he'd seen me. I'd been waiting for him, I'd known he was coming, but perhaps it was too soon. Perhaps he didn't yet understand his situation. The youngest of the young generations, he shouldn't be here at all, but as they say, accidents happen. It was a terrible shame, but here he was. I decided to send Aunt Georgia instead, perhaps he wouldn't be afraid of a gentle faced woman, this newly dead youngster who now belonged to us. His headstone wouldn't be here, of course, it would be in the city cemetery, but this is where his soul belonged. 

Comments

  1. Lovely story well told. I like your kindhearted ghosts.

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    Replies
    1. Uglemor; thank you. I think most ghosts are kindhearted.

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  2. Sad but not sad we all move on so it would be nice to move on to friendly faces.
    Merle..............

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    1. Merle; the boy will find the ghosts are as friendly as their faces.

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  3. Eerie, in a heartwarming way...if that makes any sense!

    Well done, River. :)

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  4. A gentle welcoming of a sweet soul. While it saddened me, it was clear that he was loved in one world and now in the other.

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    1. Susan Kane; much loved and now welcomed to the world of his ancestors.

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  5. Oh what a lovely story, how kind those gentle ghosts are, how welcoming to the young lad. Well done!

    XO
    WWW

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    1. WWW; thank you. The boy is a descendant, so this is his family he is joining.

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  6. Family is family. They will help him understand his situation.

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    1. Val; yes they will. I hope we all have it this way.

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  7. Replies
    1. Margaret-whiteangel; they are lovely. I may print the cemetery one for my picture wall.

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  8. Oh, what a beautiful, yet sad story! My Brother believes our parents still somehow are "up there" and look over us.
    With me it´s different. When each had just passed they showed up in my dreams half-transparent. They never spoke. With time they looked normal, but they still do not speak.
    Death. It has to come, has it.

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    1. Iris Flavia; When dad died I felt him around me for about a week, then he was gone. When mum died a few years later, she was just gone. Both had their ashes scattered into the ocean so they could float back to Germany.

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  9. Sweet story. Comforting to think our family will be waiting for us.

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    1. Arkansas Patti; it's a nice thought and probably happens in families that have close ties. I know my parents won't be waiting for me, but maybe another ancestor will.

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  10. This is sad but at least the boy has someone to welcome him. I like the perspective of the ghost.

    Great use of the prompts.

    Have a lovely day.

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    1. lissa; thank you, he'll realise this is where he now belongs.

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  11. Poor young thing. It's always hardest when the young ones go. A sweet story.

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    1. messymimi; very hard when the young ones go. Always so unexpected.

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  12. A lovely story, beautifully written. Great job!

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    1. Susan; thank you. I wasn't sure where it was going at first, but I like how it turned out.

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  13. Well-told story. Sad but not sad at the same time, if that makes sense.

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