This first piece was written about four years ago in a writer's craft class, and I'm still relatively happy with it. The only prompt that I can remember was a picture of a swing set, and I think we had free reign from there. Here it goes:
Anna stood at the edge of the park, watching the swings as a soft breeze nudged them into action, their chains squeaking softly. She liked to imagine that there were children sitting on them, swirling patterns in the sand with their toes. A year ago, she would have come to the park during regular hours to watch the neighbourhood children play, but their parents had long since become suspicious of her. They would usher their children away whenever she came too close. It was better to come at sunrise, to leave their carefree giggles and shy smiles to the imagination. Anna always woke early, and preferred the peaceful silence of the park to the stifling silence at home. She could fill the morning with sounds as she imagined the coming and going of children in the park. Children never left space for silence.
That had been Beatrice: always laughing, always chatting,
always scurrying somewhere. She had filled Anna and Jon's lives with so many
new sounds, they could hardly imagine that there had been any before she came
along. Now those sounds were gone. Beatrice had pressed the mute button on
their lives when she left. At first they tried to fill the silence, but they
had smothered themselves in the pauses between their words. Anna didn't mind so
much anymore. There was nothing left to say.
Sometimes Anna wondered whether children were worth all
of the pain. After losing Beatrice, Anna's pain had seeped into her memories,
had tainted them. Did the love overcome the pain? To her, they were the same
thing.
She shook her head to clear it of those thoughts and
leaned back against a tree, watching a dozen Beatrices zig zag across the
playground, replaying every moment, every echoing laugh. After a while,
children began to filter into the park. Anna blinked, surprised. It must be
Saturday then. She stepped behind the tree, avoiding the eyes of parents as
they marched in, weighed down with toys. The swish of brown braids caught her
attention, and Anna looked up, hopeful, but the face was not the same. it was
worse than imagining. In her mind, everything about Beatrice was real. But when
she realized that it was not Beatrice, that the smiling face belonged to
someone else...
It was better to be alone. Anna let out a slow breath and
straightened her shoulders, giving the park a final glance. For a moment, she
saw all of them for who they were, but then the illusion settled, and there was
Beatrice, laughing as she pushed herself down the slide, sitting in a circle
playing duck duck goose in the cool shade of the play structure, fighting for
space on the swing set. A dozen Beatrices swinging on and on.
Satisfied, Anna turned away. Beatrice's giggles faded
behind her as she walked back into the silence.
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