Her messy bun held. Just. But trailing plaits swung like pendulums impending doom. The pair helped balance her as she tried to bear the weight of the hydria. Sun warmed water sloshed from its brim, making her sandals slippery and her path more difficult.
Her nimble frame, encumbered, but still nimble enough to weave through sailors unloading ships, stall owners shouting for custom, and other serving girls like her cargo-ing the morning water. Or maybe the furrow of Athenians just had little desire to get tangled within the mess they sensed she would make.
Visages of a large broken urn being their responsibility or their goods soaked to useless steered them from her path. However she could see little through the handle and did not notice her path taking turns she had not planned, taking her closer to the water’s lapping edge than the road home.
All it took was the unfamiliarity of the stone and the slip of soaking sandals to topple her and her guest into the blue. Cold hard waves broke her fall where the sun had not yet warmed it, and as she bobbed on the surface, despair seeping into her bones, her master’s hydria began to sink. She’d managed to earn some fish a new home, and herself a week of pain she could not begin to imagine.
Written for the #writephoto prompt linked here, photo below.
I always had to have the last word To feel I’d won the fight.
You always let me have the last word Because you cared more about us than winning.
Thank you for all your losses so we could win and weather The storm I was the eye of That we still suffered together.
I now see It’s not you vs me It’s us vs anything life attempts to make us hurdle I’m ready to take one, two, three for the team And let you win And if I have learnt a goddamn thing It won’t feel like I lose But that we just sail out Onto calm waters Our hands gripped tighter than they were before.
I immediately saw the blurry lines in this image and thought of the song. I wanted to write about it but as I felt what I wrote (albeit super flash fiction) was enough to get across the point I wanted to make.
My skin peels away from flesh, my flesh from milky marrow, leaving nothing but my naked soul exposed for all to judge. I step out, beaming spotlight of raw sun highlights the pockmarks seared in from hate and anger. Without my shield my anger has melted, without my comfort blanket of body I can ask truly for forgiveness. “Please. Forgive me.” The limp lips of their lifeless face cannot. It is up to me to forgive myself. But if I repeatedly forgive myself, will I ever stop?
Sun rose yesterday Window to experience Bright dawn modern life
And then they took it away Crushed by waves, anxious Days stretch unknowingly to Demise of the life I’d been rebuilding, anew.
In the UK the government are going blasé on the COVID safety restrictions from the 19th July. Along with opening nightclubs and lifting capacity on events, they’re removing the need to wear masks or socially distance.
While lots of Brits are celebrating, for me as a vulnerable individual this is taking away a lot of freedom I’d been enjoying. Despite being young and double jabbed, if I were to get COVID the results could be devastating, even life ending. While I can sympathise with people wanting to get back to normal, any sense of normality I’ve been enjoying (seeing some friends, going out to eat, etc) will probably be no go’s again very soon.
With hundreds of thousands of cases predicted each day, it’s going to be a minefield that I just can’t risk. And it will be the same for the plethora of other young vulnerable individuals and all elderly people.
This is just another notch on a long list of uninclusive acts from our country’s government. But I guess there will at least be a easy way to tell if someone is a nice person from now on, whether they’re wearing a mask in indoor public places… *sigh*
Torrents invaded But here I still stand If anything Nourished By the unexpected Ferocious flow Of tears through this land.
I’d like this to be an example to all the other islands out there That no matter your stature (And although life isn’t fair) That you can keep going And live To tell tales to the young Of how you not only survived, But thrived, Grew, And won.