FLASH FICTION : FIRST PLACE

Lorrie Morales

She wandered aimlessly about the room and just couldn ’ t get settled . Being in this tiny space confined her and she was overcome with that closed feeling of being stifled . The stale air and lack of anything colourful , bright , or cheerful dulled her senses . The kids had plunked her here months ago . She needed to get out , so down the hall she tottered , pushed the elevator button and escaped into the back garden . Freedom at last !

The fresh air , muggy from last evening ’ s rain , filled her lungs and she breathed in the smell of freshly cut grass . The newness of the day ignited her senses . The fragrance from the full blossoms of the mauve lilac tree tickled her nose and she closed her eyes , momentarily remembering the days on the farm and growing old with Marv , the love of her life .

As she slowly opened her eyes , she noticed the assorted stone path and began to follow it through the garden . She stepped on the odd weed that had popped up from the cracks in the path . The blossoms of every colouring flower were there : the roses , the posies , the lilies , and geraniums all in full bloom and the array of colour pleased her eyes . She smiled .

The garden , so like her family . All sorts of people — loving , caring , and nourishing her soul . Yes , there were thistles in the patch — those prickly ones that hurt . Words do that . Actions too , like putting her in this place . Just like the ants she now saw scurrying and moving oblivious to her steps . They were busy with their lives , like the bee hovering and buzzing over the purple bud of the long-stemmed plant swaying in the breeze . In her life , poking their heads in to get what they wanted and then off to their little ant hills and hives , leaving her behind . Stuck here .

She continued her wandering along the path , through all the plants admiring the work of the gardener .

She spotted a little wooden bench and made her way gingerly across the spongy green grass . The day was going to be hot and muggy , but for now , it was pleasant with a soft , cool breeze . As she slowly positioned herself on the wooden bench , watching for splinters , she kicked off her slippers and felt the earth beneath her feet . She absorbed the warmth of the sun filtering through the leaves and gazed at her curled up , hammer toes and matching bunions . This aging business was tough some days . Maybe that ’ s why they wanted her here . Put away in this place — forgotten and neatly taken care of , like the garden .

A jabbering magpie interrupted her thoughts . Those negative feelings surfaced in her throat and she swallowed them down . They were reminders and feelings of wanting to escape this place , into the sky like the birds . But silence was here . It was every day , but out here it felt different . She closed her eyes again and heard the breeze picking up its speed and rustling the leaves again . She faintly heard the laughter of the workers in the back of the bricked building as they took their morning break . A truck rolled by , but the birds were chirping regardless and they tweeted away on the fence — that structure that kept them all contained in this institution .

36 | arta . net