Short Story

Crossroads

Written for The Unicorn Challenge where we are
asked to get creative in 250 words or less using
the photo below as inspiration. This is my story.

© Ayr/Gray

There he stood at the crossroads of his life. He was 72 years old and made more poor choices than he cared to remember. He was purposeless, never knowing which direction to take.

He was an indecisive man. The only true and clear decision he made was marrying his wife. She was his anchor when he began to drift, his lifeboat when he was drowning in the sea of life.

On this crisp autumn day, he was suddenly consumed with the urge to take a walk, clear his head. His wife offered to go with him, but he declined saying thanks, but he needed this time by himself to think.

His wife suggested he wear his new chartreuse windbreaker; if he lost his bearings, as he was often wont to do, he’d be easily visible. And so he donned his yellow-green jacket and took off to find himself.

Now here he stood at the crossroads of his life, literally. He had no idea where he was. As he looked around, he realized he was truly screwed for he blended in perfectly with his surroundings.

At that moment he cursed his wife. He wanted to wear his beloved red jacket but no, she suggested he wear the chartreuse one. Because he could never make up his mind, he did as he was told. Now he was lost without a clue which way to go.

And to think he went off to find himself. Now he wondered if anyone would find him.

NAR©2024
250 Words

This is “Crossroads” by Cream

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Poem

In The Cold

Today at dVerse we are asked to
write a haibun that alludes to
breath, breathing, or to breath
e.

The weather seems colder these days, perhaps that’s because I’m getting older.

As we briskly walk we can see our breath in the air when we talk and we laugh at my memory, just a fleeting sensory thought.

As kids we’d joke, pretending to be grownups who smoke in the cold.

A gentle snow fall
Crystalline flakes on my tongue
Breathing in the cold

NAR©2024

This is “Breathe” (In the Air) by Pink Floyd

This portfolio (including text, graphics and videos) is copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR © 2017-present.