A Circled Life (#SixSentenceStories)


Prompt:  CIRCLE


Circle has no beginning, no end…draw it around a life.

Within, it holds myriad elements…people, events, choices, vows, loves-losses-regrets, seasons turning kaleidoscopically.

Bedelia’s life was circle that began abandoned, already saddened, unattractive, in late autumn…leaves falling, becoming brown, dry and curling.

She blossomed in spring, reigned during summer—all her dreams an open gate.

Then it slammed shut, a frozen wall…her hoarfrost heart prematurely wintered.

Decades passed, another autumn:  her ravaged soul was dusty chapel window through which she peered dimly, alone…watching leaves fall, become brown, dry and curling.

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.

Routine Was Everything


Prompt:  ROUTINE

Routine meant everything to her; dependable, reliable, its structure afforded her a modicum of stability.

Routine provided the illusion of control—which she clearly understood was mere illusion; nonetheless, comforting.

She vigorously denied even a minor degree of OCD; it was simply more sensible to live an orderly life—rather than a haphazard, reckless, adventuresome existence which risked certain calamity.

Pared down smaller than most people’s, perhaps cloistered, her life was manageable (and for the most part, richer than anyone knew) behind the tall invisible walls of privacy and routine.

She shopped for groceries and paid bills at first of month, did her laundry near the end; garbage and recycling were put out on designated days; her quiet activities maintained a satisfying rhythm.

On the final day, her clothes and dishes were all washed and tidied, her few rooms neat; no food was left to rot, the houseplants were watered…and when eventually discovered, her corpse in the closet was described as a “routine” suicide.

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations,  2020 ~ All rights reserved.

The Polar Bear Coat (6 Sentence Story)


Prompt:  COAT

It was a new school…again.

New state, new climate, new house, new rules, new faces (and still no place for her).

New clothes from Penney’s, where evidently other girls’ mothers’ shopped…she resembled one of triplet sisters.

The new coat, white, looked like a polar bear had left it behind; and was identical to that worn by a girl who offered friendship.

This coat was big and thick…white fake-fur-armor she never took off throughout the schoolday.

It, and her unyielding mute gaze into the distance, protected her from all things fearsome…like scary adolescent boys.

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations,  2020 ~ All rights reserved.

Clocks Winding Down

Sorry for my absence, I’ll catch up with your posts when I can ~ Rhen

Don’t get old, or poor

Nor alienate kinfolk

Bureaucracy’s cold

Compassionless as concrete

Toward clocks winding down alone

©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.