Līgo Haībun Challenge

It's been almost a month since I wrote anything about Marci, and even longer since I've touched on any of her co-characters.  In all honesty, I have no idea where - if anywhere - this is heading.  This week's prompt is a picture of a forest, which could be just about anywhere.

ARRIVAL

The club was quiet that night, but Marci wasn’t bored.  She stayed until closing time, nursing a glass of pinot noir and her own private thoughts.  When she left, instead of getting in her car and driving home, she set off into the woods behind the parking lot. Just a whim, she told herself, though it felt purposeful.

She thought about the time when she was young and had wandered on her own into the other realm, and wondered why she had never tried to do it again.

Until now. 

The woods grew deeper around her and, though the night was warm, goose bumps rose on her bare arms.  She looked up through the dense branches as a whisp of cloud passed over the full moon.

She was then drawn to a shimmering glow behind a large oak tree.  When she stepped around the tree the world flipped and she found herself at the edge of a clearing, standing in several inches of fresh snow as the rising sun filtered through the trees.

A satyr emerged from the trees, and she knew somehow it was the one from the picture in Uncle Albert's desk.

"Finally." he said to her. "We were wondering when you were going to come."

 ~ : ~

lured by memory
across to another realm
meeting destiny

 ~ : ~

217 words

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Līgo Haībun Challenge

 Marci's Thread

The Līgo Haībun Challenge - Flowers

Background:  Here is a little slice of real life.  My lovely wife's mother passed away not quite a month ago.  There are always a lot of things for the survivors to sort out.  This entry relates some of that experience.  The LW posted a pic like this on Facebook today, and with a little bit of prompting composed the haiku the follows my text.  The haiku that I composed to go with this pic back in Nov. 2010 seems strangely appropriate also, so I'll end with that, making the total word count 226, and this a collaborative effort.

 View along the foundation, later in Spring

Flowers

Progress is slow clearing out the old house where mom lived alone for so many years, getting it ready to sell after she passed away. 

 Every closet is full of old clothing and older memories. Boxes from the attic hold pictures of her first communion, her wedding, her parents, older ancestors in stiff, starched collars, mementos of dad's experiences in WW II. 

The work isn’t hard. Clear the closets, open the boxes, identify things to go to Good Will, things to keep or distribute, things to throw away.  The decisions aren't so hard either. But the past, and yearning for the past has so many distractions. That is what is slow and difficult. 

We asked 6-year-old great-granddaughter Emily what she wanted. After a few false starts, she decided on a refrigerator magnet, and any of her drawings, if there were any left. There weren't, but there was a multi-colored heart-shaped magnet that she will love. 

When we left the house after a long day, we found that the daffodils along the foundation were peeking up out of the ground, just like they do every February. In a world of endless and sometimes painful change, they remind us that some things are constant.

 ~:~:~:~

My favorite flower
Full of the promise of Spring
Reminds me of Mom

 ~:~:~:~

Flowers in Springtime:
Not so long ago, now a
Fading memory

 ~:~:~:~

Ligo Haibun: Flowers
 

Līgo Haībun Challenge -- Melt

Yer Pirate, and some other Wordpress Users -

If you should read this, I want you to know that I am unable to comment on any of your blog posts including the one for this challenge.  These comments must be stuck in your spam filter.  Please release them.

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I saw this new challenge at KZ's blog and was inspired by what she wrote.  So much so that this is a direct response to it.  A failure of originality, perhaps, but you know what they say about imitation.  Anyway, here goes, at exactly 220 words.

 Picture Source

MELT

My Dearest Jocelyn -

The handkerchief you made for me is perfect. Would you be surprised that I still keep it close to my heart?   I do so admire your skill with needlepoint, your touch at the harpsichord, the beauty of your singing, your way with words, and the quiet confidence with which you handle the servants. My father bought his way into our social class, and you saw how I was never accepted there.  That by itself is enough to make our love impossible.

You know that I have always loved you, and certainly in a way that your husband never could.  But Willoughby's was so long ago.  Still, I remember that first kiss, the touch of your soft hands, and all else that we did that night.  The memory gives me such a warm glow.

My husband has been able to thaw me.  Or maybe I was never frozen.  But even now, with oceans between us when I am in his arms I think of you.  Perhaps it would help if you would think of me.

I memorized your beautiful letter before I burned it in the candle that you gave me.  You know what to do with this.

Sent with all my love,

Emilia

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Love that never wanes

Though the candles are burned low

Nevermore to wax

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  Līgo Haībun Challenge