Friday Fictioneers – a longing

Watercolour painting of a short glass vase containing a collection of seashells, set upon on a piece of wood.

Photo prompt by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

At the corner of my eye, it distracted me

That delicate blown glass, inherited from our nonna.

The one she carried tenderly from Burano

Tantalizing and fragile.


There were children, and dogs and large clumsy men

Bumping and thumping their weight about the house

We ladies chopped and stirred and turned out cake

We spoke our truths, lovingly broke bread

While that heavenly heirloom tottered in space.


How it held. How it waited

For a moment of inattention

It wanted to tumble, it longed for displacement

Too many years stood still

Sedentary, stable, stagnant.


It wanted to fall. [94 words]

Thank you Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (fearless leader) for continuing to set this 100 word or less challenge. Your commitment is appreciated by many.

Other 100 word stories can be read here.

22 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers – a longing

  1. I think we feel like this sometimes. The daily grind, the people big and hulking or small and fleet of foot dashing everywhere and us in the middle – just waiting for a moment of peace and quiet. Bravo, Trish.

    Liked by 1 person

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