Time has a way of moving quickly,
and catching you unaware of the passing years.
2022©Isadora DeLaVegaSpirit in the Sky 2022©Isadora DeLaVega
Norman Greenbaum – Spirit In The Sky
Adults held children while running and screaming in all directions.
Horror on their faces signaled an unmistakable accident.
Uniformed fair staff and guards gathered everyone to safe zones.
A day of carnival treats and rides; now, the scene of a devastating tragedy.
Shock and terror paralyzed me.
I declined Monica’s request that morning to escort her son, my daughter’s friend, to the fair. With six kids to monitor, I couldn’t manage any more.
A round-a-bout chair ride suddenly stopped causing the chain to sever her sons’ leg. My heart broke when I discovered it was Ryan who was injured. Despite many, many surgeries, he never was the same again.
Amusement parks were off our activities list from that day forward.
2021©Isadora De La Vega
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Every Wednesday Crispina will post a photo like this one above.
You are to respond with something CREATIVE
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***** I wrote this story in 2015 for another challenge. It’s been edited and made a bit clearer. Enjoy … Isadora 😎
Brigitte exhaled as she came upon the Cathédrale Saint-Bénigne.
Pensively she said, “Père would have been tearful. He carried painful memories of the war in his heart.”
“Henri, why did you die before you could find peace?”
Mère had never spoken about those times, nor did Père
After the funeral, I promised Mère I’d bring her here. Now, she’d find peace for both of them.
As I looked at the inside of this beautiful cathedral, it was difficult to imagine the terror they felt during the revolution. They survived because of this church.
Mère sat with closed eyes and prayed.
She never awoke.
2021©Isadora DeLaVega
Every Wednesday Crispina will post a photo like this one above.
You are to respond with something CREATIVE
to join in click here
***** Research led me to the information that Cathédrale Saint-Bénigne de Dijon was a cathedral built in 13th and 14th century France.
Your waking dreams
I hear your screams
of the hour
My wilted flower
All alone
can’t go home
You must cower
My wilted flower
So much pain
standing in the rain
You are not of power
My wilted flower
You run away
and, there you stay
In the cold rain shower
My wilted flower
Memories of all the hate
your horrible fate
They no longer tower
My wilted flower
In peace you die
I mustn’t cry
Your last hour
My wilted flower
©written by Jennifer Cramer