Short narrative fiction
I am unraveling the seventh piece of crumpled paper. I think I will use this one. It is getting dark and I am mentally exhausted from rewriting this letter over and over again. Whatever I wrote in this last one will have to do.
I am taking too long to read it. The tremor in my right hand is back, so I can’t stay still long enough to read the words.
I think I have forgotten how to read.
I envy the silence in my bedroom, oh, it is just deafening. Instead of quiet, the first sentence on the page is screaming out, begging to be free.
Happy New Year to you.
Wow! It’s 2018! Can you believe it? It’s a blessing to have made it to this year. Christmas was spent with sweet lingering smells of holiday cooking which included jollof rice, my family of five posing in front of our decorated Christmas tree for our annual Christmas photos, and visiting wonderful friends. Some days later, the new year swept us off our feet and with feelings of anticipation, we prayed, did a countdown, and finally screamed, “Happy New Year” while watching the famous ball drop in New York right from our TV set.
Once more, most of us have gone into a deep reflective mode to consider what we want our 2018 to look like. If you’ve said, “This year, I’m going to do X, Y, and Z,” then you are in the right place. You’re part of the gang.
Most of us can be so set in our ways that we can’t smell redemption even if it’s right under our noses. No one likes change. No one likes to have everything they’ve ever known their whole lives dismantled to start a new journey.
Yet, redemption is always near. Look at the palm of your hand and find that God has already given it to you. What redemption?
I used to be a stickler for clean dishes and having absolutely nothing in the sink. Then came three kids, homeschooling, and freelancing, and I learned that there’s beauty in my mess. Two days ago, I was loading up the dishwasher and laughing at myself. At how much I’ve changed. And I just had to write about this mess.
Yes, in the midst of pots clanging and banging, dishes brown with dripping stew, a morning workbook half-done, kids running around in circles, a baby taking a two-minute nap and not a second more, and deadlines hanging over your head like a chandelier, there IS beauty in all that good mess.
You just have to be able to see it.