Writing Exercise 144

Hello there!

Do you mourn 9/11 today as well? Well, I have a double drabble for you. Here it is:

2018/09/11 – remembrance (double drabble)

Today we remember a day which shocked the whole world almost two decades ago, and every year in doing so we carve the notch on history's bedpost a little deeper. But this is not the only day worth remembering – in fact, we have so many of them, we could mourn and remember every day of the year and do nothing else.

World Peace Day, World Hunger Day, World Women's Day, World Refugee Day, World Health Day…

Safer Internet Day, World Sleep Day, World Radio Day, World Tourist Guide Day, World Grandpa Underpants Day.

Okay, I made the last one up. But seriously, the truly important days should not only be remembered once a year – these are issues which should be addressed and acted upon always, until they are issues no more.

And the other remembrance days are nothing but ridiculous; they trivialize the real problems by putting them on the same level of importance.

I understand the need for more positivity in this world, and I support it. We need to feel happy in order to know sadness, and vice versa. And, by all means, we could use some good news!

But let's not lose sight of what is important.

Old Memories

Looking through old pictures I found a black and white photograph which is about a decade old. Seeing the colours missing, I took this photo as reference to recreate it with SAI and colour it as I remember it.
Here is the result:

Writing Exercise 066

My dear writing buddy Sam from the Dead Pete Society is responsible for this week's writing exercise. She posted a prompt, and I instantly took it and did with it what you are about to read. You will see, this little story is greatly influenced by one of our day trips while we were in Japan.
So here goes:

 

2017/03/16 – "They thought I would forget. But I remembered. Everything."

Sitting in a rocking chair on the porch she enjoyed the soothing warmth of the late summer sun, sipping on some iced tea and fanning herself with yesterday's newspaper with her good hand. The old radio beside her on the small table played a happy tune. The grass had turned brown due to the lack of rain and the leaves stirred in the light breeze. She peered at the cloudless sky as the weather forecast promised a summer rain in the evening.

The afterthought of a smile faded in the many wrinkles around her mouth. Rain. She remembered the feel of the rain on her skin; even decades later she saw every tiny detail before her mind's eye. Her life had changed so much, but still the image, the noises and smells of this one incident were so very vivid as if engraved in stone or captured in a black and white photo or family stories told for generations.

But photos turned so easily to ashes when set aflame, stone crumbled to rubble in the face of a destructive force beyond comparison, generations of people were winked out in a single blinding flash that made earth the embodiment of hell. Distinctive clouds heralding nothing but death in their wake, an explosion with a destructive force never seen before, the stench of charred black flesh, fatal damage done on a cellular level, a whole city of buildings blasted to dust, the wails of agony of those who survived the blast. And hours later came the rain – the black rain.

She had been but a child back then, innocent, never understood what hit her when it did. She lost everything on that day – everything but her raw life. Surprisingly she had sustained the mother of all explosions, the black rain, the long-term aftermath of radiation, and she continued to do so.

But she would always walk the Earth with her eyes turned skyward, her mind tuned to the many gods in the hope one might hear her prayers for peace to remain and the black rain to stay away. For, even if younger generations became oblivious to the inhumanity and destructive force of war, she still remembered. Everything.

Writing Exercise 055

Today the old year ends, and the new one begins. How are you celebrating? With your family, with your friends? Anyhow, it's time for the last writing exercise in 2016. And of course, the topic of this drabble is New Year. So before the fireworks begin, let's stop to look back for a second:

2016/12/31 – New Year (Drabble)

Where has the time gone? Another year has passed by quickly, oh, so quickly. Out of all the things that had happened, what do you remember most vividly? What was memorable enough to make your personal 2016? Perhaps it was something you achieved. Or an emotional experience. Or the face of a person dear to you. Whatever it was, it will stay with you when the clock strikes twelve and the new year begins. You may want to start fresh, you may want to carry your thrive over to 2017. Whatever you decide, I wish you a happy New Year!