Friday Fictioneers – Old Beryl

Photo Courtesy: Al Forbes

 

Old Beryl

Word count:  100

Mr. Briggs loved the old girl but now it was time to let her go.  He’d polished her fenders with care, attached the poppy just so and spit-licked the spotlight shiny.

Later, he watched from the other side of the barrier as she passed by, tears brimming, and saluted with one briny hand. Mr. Briggs lingered long after the crowds had dispersed, staring down the road with droopy, rheumy eyes.

He tugged a handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose loudly before turning away.  Perhaps he’d stop at the newsagent and pick up some chicken noodle soup for dinner.

The Notion

Metaphorically, most of us discard some things to keep hold of the other things in our arms, be it a lover, a toxic friend, a hobby that’s been outgrown, bad food, whatever…the importance of what you currently cradle is greater.  But, as we amble or race (however you choose to move) along our journey, those discarded things can be found glinting on the side of the road once again.  Certainly, picking up an old lover wouldn’t be considered a good thing, nor the crappy food that we kicked to the curb

But, some things perhaps they call as a small voice; not heard as a sound but a notion.

Even as I sit here, I am hesitant; do I have the will to pick up with this blog again?  Haven’t I said everything I wanted to say?  Who the hell is interested anyway?

In my arms, already a life filled with growing children and their activities. My time is spent ferrying them places, or exercising, cooking, cleaning, working…certain things that weren’t so significant when I started this blog.

I’ve not forgotten entirely what it is to be spiritual or mindful because there are moments, sporadic moments, when I ask “Am I still here?” and the affirmation floats up with a, yes, I Am still here.

So, why am I here?  I don’t know.  The notion to come here has popped up several times over the past few weeks, so today I decided to use my lunchtime wisely and try it out again; to heed the notion instead of brushing it aside.

Perhaps it’s a call to be creative again since that is most sorely lacking in my life.

Oh look, there it is – Creativity.  Glittering on the side of the road.  I can pick it up but what do I discard to make room for it?  Do I need to discard anything at all?  Can’t I have it all?

I’ll see.