Untitled. For now.

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Cora awakened before the sun, as she had over half of her 80 some odd years, & tried to recall what her life had been. Places & faces bled & ran like ink on white fabric before settling in shapes unfamiliar. The contours of this new landscape created from the eroded masses of her mind seemed important but in that moment she could glean no importance from them.

A tear fell.

In need of activity Cora let it run. She tried to trace & record the path the droplet ran on the nerve endings of her right cheek. She recorded the temperature of this miniscule, woman-made body of salt water in what was left of her mind, praying all the while she’d be able to retrieve it.

She was distracted by the rich colors of sunrise. Cora questioned what she’d been told about the sun being male & the moon his companion. She couldn’t imagine anyone but a woman taking care to enter & exit, without fail, in such magnificence. Cora shrugged off the bit of folklore in the dismissive fashion of someone who knows she’s decoded a mystery.

Cora watched the sun complete her mural before responding to the ever present urge to be outside. Jacket on & shoed feet, out Cora ventured as she had for several days, led as if by puppet strings & tacit purpose. She walked & gathered, driven by an inner whispering in a voice she trusted but still couldn’t identify. With full arms Cora found her way back inside to tend to her pressing business.

She spread out her haul to begin matching this piece with that one based on some primal understanding she’d not known she had. Her mind was locked on a speckled ovular shape, surprised by how the specks changed from grey to vibrant oranges & yellows the closer she got to completing her project.

Cora intuited her work was complete & placed her last carefully woven twig. She stepped back to admire her creation then climbed inside.

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A few doors down from Cora, her daughter awakened with her mind set on getting her family ready for work & school. As she shook the night’s grog, Faye realized she hadn’t heard the low murmur of the TV from her mother’s room or the usual whistle of the tea kettle. She trudged down the hall past the room shared by her children. She knocked twice with no answer, turned to walk away & leave her mother to sleep. Faye knew it wasn’t really like her  mother to sleep & instead turned the knob. She was only able to take 1 step in before being overcome with confusion & wonder at what she saw.

Her mother’s bed frame no longer existed where she’d known it, reduced to a pallet on the side of the room. Where the bed once was stood…sat?…a beautifully constructed nest? Her mother, Cora, lay balled up in the center as though doing yoga, under 1 of the blankets she’d crocheted for her oldest grandchild.

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Completely unaware of her guest’s presence, a woman was busy incubating, floating through sunscapes & vibrated in prayers of hatching anew. Cora hoped to create a new version of herself with hands big enough to hold onto the parts of her that were fast slipping away & reawaken with a sense of peace & purpose to replace the fogginess she’d been left with & a life she could no longer tell was worth remembering.

 

#30WriteNow

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