Imaginative- Final Thoughts As she lay in the sun, dazzled by it's intensive light, she thought. She thought about everything extraordinary in her life. Her child, a loving son. The pain and anguish she felt bringing him into this world. The suffering of sleepless nights had brought a heavy strain upon her, like trailing a thousand tonnes of a broken life she had previously known. Seeing him flourish as he grew was as if everyday he would lift a piece from load to ease the struggle. He was her motivation to live. Each time she gazed into his melting chocolate eyes, perhaps in anger or perhaps in love, it was as though he said " One more day mommy, just one more, for me?" She always did, for him.
The loving mother. She did anything for her child. She was truly devoted to him. He was her creation. Maybe along the way she had a helping hand, shall it be said.
felt flower
Deutsch: Filzhut
English: Felt Polski: Filc Magyar: NemezIn developing and moulding this individual she stood alone in credentials. Through the stress of her pride and joy straining to achieve and his well-deserved rewards she felt she had also attained new parts to her life. As though their two minds connected and intertwined in an instantaneous rhythm, what he felt was shared by his parental being.
Her years of heartache and joy were rewarded on his wedding day. The reception was a dream. A beauteous living spectacle of what she wished for him. Held upon the pure snow-white sands of Jamaica. A glorious beach wedding with a fabulous, glistening bridal centre piece. Dressed in the purest white silk and trailing lace headdress, his chosen wife gleamed rosily in expectance of a baby. He had his whole life. A job, a dentist none the less. A new wife, sparkling with radiant beauty. She also had a loving family, one her and her son were welcomed into with open arms. His wife, heavy with child. She was due to be a grandmother. A beautiful baby in the family, new life. There was nothing more in her life she desired. Her son however booked his loving and faithful mother upon the captain of all luxury liners. Around the clock service, crystal swimming pools and spectacularly delicious young men, who wore shorts as tight as the skin on a grape and twice as sweet, cared for her every need.
She was delighted by his kindness. She was very proud. She set sail for home, from the ceremony, on her promised voyage. The cruise was everything the glossy brouche had promised. The final piece, like the plastic couple upon her son's cake.
Events began to flood back to her, about how she was in bed and then tasted the bitter salt water of the sea. An explosion, flying objects, bits of her final dream. It was unclear to her what had caused the blast causing her to be submerged in the ocean. She emerged from the dark smouldering water gripping, grasping for her life into blind nothingness. A plank! She had found a saviour and fell asleep.
As she awoke she lay soaked and cold. In the intensive sun. She had lain in the sun, dazzled by it's intensive light, she had though. She had thought about the things extraordinary in her life. Her child, a loving son. She then knew everything she had wished for, in the entirety of her life, had happened.
She felt weak and was slipping off, losing her grasp on her last hope for survival. As she turned over to retain her life's grip she realised she drifted on the ship's named back end. She read it's name and then she knew that that word summed up all she thought of. She smiled, and as she did proceeded to release grasp on life. She held her smile until all breathing ceased and she retired to her watery grave, surrounded by the debris of a ship named "ÃÂVictory'.
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