Edward DelRay was the last of the DelRays
that there would ever be.
Prove
it he told himself.
He had burned the last of his books that
afternoon and inhaled the smoke of his imagination as he watched the fire. Now he took his melancholy out the back door
and stood silently in the garden where a thousand lifeless stems grew, each one
marking a future he had buried.
He was silent and unmoving but he screamed
nonetheless.
Beneath the ground each strangled dream
held its neighbour’s hand and smiled, writhing toward the surface and a reunion
rich with potential.
(in response to a prompt from Light and Shade Challenge ("Prove it") and Studio30Plus ("He took his melancholy out the back door)
Prove it indeed! Lyssa M x
ReplyDeleteI think he will
DeleteAwaiting a thousand tiny phoenixes...
ReplyDeleteLove it!
Thanks Joe - I think Phoenixes would be optimistic
DeleteDark. Very dark.
ReplyDeleteI quite agree
DeleteThis was very intense. It felt like I was holding by breath the whole time I was reading.
ReplyDeleteGlad to hear it - thank you!
DeleteI enjoy your intensity! "inhaled the smoke of his imagination ..."
ReplyDeleteEvery time I read a post from you I am impressed with the images you paint through your words.
ReplyDeleteThe passion comes through intensely in this one.
The hopelessness of the end. Very moving. Nicely done.
ReplyDeleteI held my own breath. I loved the line about inhaling his own imagination. It was so powerful, it stung going down.
ReplyDelete