[Inklingflame]

@mischievous-thwapling  (🤞I Hope this works)

Hey Everybody!
I wrote this story for my Mother’s birthday.  I would LOVE and critiques, criticisms, comments, or snide remarks (I know I messed up the alliteration;) you have. 😁  I have a poem introducing (for lack of a better word) my story, because…well why not! 😆 Anyway, here is the story:

IN A MOTHER’S ARMS: 

A Mother:
To the world a mother’s soft hair becomes grayed,

To her child her hair becomes stars all arrayed.

To the world a mother’s hands are rough as bone,

To her child her hands are smooth as a river’s stone.

To the world a mother’s lips are thin and pale,

To her child her lips are a moon in a fairytale.

To the world a mother’s face is lined with care,

To her child it’s filled with love so fair.

To the world a mother is just a mother,

But to a child a mother is the world.

This story begins where everyone’s story begins, in a mother’s arms.

Warm, strong arms wrapped themselves around her child. The baby, Edith, snuggled closer, she knew those arms would keep her safe throughout the night. All throughout babyhood her Mother’s arms were like strong rope, that bound Edith to the rock. When Edith was able to toddle she began in her Mother’s arms and ended in her Mother’s arms. Edith’s first memory was of a sweet blue-eyed, brown haired woman, who would wrap her arms around her. This woman turned out to be her Mother. And what a Mother! In Edith’s eyes her Mother was perfect. Her eyes like the sky after a storm. Hair as soft as sparrow feathers, with perfect waves like the ocean. Lips as soft and sweet as a fat strawberry. Fingers as nimble as a deer leaping through the woods. But, to Edith the best by far was her Mother’s arms. These arms had vowed to be a warm home, a gentle healer, a safe haven, and a kind comforter. They had promised to never leave her child, to never fail her, and to never lose her.

When Edith was young these arms provided a warm home. When Edith could run these arms were a gentle healer. And when Edith was older still these arms became a safe haven and kind comforter. Mother was always on the watch for anyone who would hurt her little girl. Watchful eyes followed Edith wherever she went.

Over time Edith’s Mother changed. No longer was her face free from life’s wrinkles. No longer were her hands as smooth as a river’s stone. Her golden brown hair was streaked with gray. Her lips became thin and pale. This was her appearance to the world, but to her child the wrinkles were wrinkles of love. Her hands were all the more perfect for their roughness. Her golden brown hair was lined with silver stars, an honor bestowed upon the best. Her lips were a bright, shining moon. This was Edith’s Mother. To her she was the world, no, she was the universe. Every morning began in her Mother’s arms, and very night ended in them.  Edith never lost her love for her mother. She always yearned for those arms and her Mother’s comforting embrace.

One night Edith embraced her mother, like every other night for the last fourteen years.  Edith drifted off to sleep with her Mother’s soft embrace to look forward to in the morning. The next day dawned, like every other day. The warm sun filtered into Edith’s room and awoke her. With a push Edith was free from her blankets, ready for her mother’s hug. She tripped lightly down the stairs, like every other day, and into the kitchen. There was her father on his phone, he looked worried. Edith swept the room with her eyes. Her Mother wasn’t there. “Dad, where’s Mom?” She asked.

Her father cast her a worried glance. “I’ve got to go.” He said into the phone. And with that he hung up. “Edith, honey,” he said, giving her a hug. “Your Mother went out with some friends last night to see a play.”

Edith nodded, her Mother had left after giving her a hug. “Well,” her father said. Edith could see he was struggling. “There was a fire at the theater.” Edith opened her mouth to speak. To say she didn’t believe it, but no words came. Please don’t finish she implored with her eyes. But her father continued, “She never came home. The authorities and firefighters are still finding survivors. But she still hasn’t been found, and I can’t contact her.” Here Edith’s Father broke down crying. Edith joined in the sobs. They stayed there for a few minutes together Father and Daughter. Both seeking comfort and love in the other’s arms. After several minutes Edith’s Father pulled away. “I’m going to help search. Miss. Nancy will be her soon to stay with you.”

“Please let me go with you.” Edith begged. But her Father only shook his head.

The day passed in a blur. Their neighbor, Miss. Nancy came in, full of sympathy and tears. She enveloped Edith in a huge perfumey hug, but it wasn’t her Mother’s hug. Edith sat on the couch in a daze. Miss. Nancy baked, cleaned, and made phone calls. Women called on the house all day offering help and love, but Edith didn’t want it. They would embrace her and tell her everything was going to be alright. But it wasn’t her Mother’s embrace or kind voice. The woman would gossip in the kitchen about the ‘poor dear.’ The air was filled with perfume, women trying to comfort her, gossip, and ladies’ arms around her, but it wasn’t her Mother’s arms. Edith dimly remembered the women leaving one by one. Miss. Nancy urged her to eat. Faintly Edith remembered getting into bed and Miss. Nancy gave her a hug, but it wasn’t like her Mother’s. As Edith drifted into a dreamless sleep she dimly remembered thinking, for the first time in fourteen years she hadn’t hugged her Mother that day.

Edith awoke with tears on her cheeks. She couldn’t go downstairs, she couldn’t face the day. But she did. Struggling from her blankets she slid out of bed. Edith thumped down the stairs, trying not to think. There, in the kitchen was Miss. Nancy. “Dad?” Edith croaked.

Leading her to a chair, Miss. Nancy explained, “He came home late last night, Honey, and left early this morning. There’s still no news.”

Edith was in a nightmare. It couldn’t be real, she decided. It was just a bad dream. It would be over soon. Soon she would wake up to see her Mother’s smiling face looking down on her. With this empty idea, Edith ate what was put in front of her. There were less women, perfume, and hugs that day, but still too many. Edith sat staring glumly at the floor. Time seemed to have stopped. Everything was frozen. The only thing still moving was Edith’s grief and worry. Slowly it was morphing into despair.  Tires sounded on the gravel. Edith didn’t even look up. It was probably just another lady. Miss. Nancy was standing by the window. “It’s your Father, Honey.” With a slight gasp Edith forced herself to her feet. Finally the unanswered question would be answered.

With mixed feeling she opened the door and stepped outside. Her Father had opened the car door. He stood there a mixture of joy and relief shown from his eyes. Then the  passenger door opened. Edith froze. There disguised by ash and dirt was the loveliest sight Edith had ever seen. There was her Mother. Edith stumbled down the front porch’s stairs. Somehow she found herself in her Mother’s arms. The place she knew so well. The strong, safe, sweet place. Once again Edith was in her Mother’s arms.

[Mischievous Thwapling]

@inklingflame

AWWWW!! That was so sweet! The poem at the beginning was a very beautiful and nice touch. The mother/daughter relationship… Awww…

Inklingflame wrote:

“I’ve got to go.” He said into the phone.

I believe it would be best punctuation wise to cut the comma, replace it with a period, then make the h in He lowercase.  Like this: “I’ve got to go,” he said into the phone.  (I bolded the changes so that they would be clearer)

Then the same thing with this sentence: “Please let me go with you,” Edith begged. Comma instead of period 😉

*googles whether one has to put a period after Miss since I’m unsure* Okay, so according to the internet (that’s reliable, right? JK) one shouldn’t put a period after Miss, though one is essential after Ms.  So with Miss Nancy, you could shorten it to Ms. Nancy, or take off the period.

Inklingflame wrote:

Please don’t finish she implored with her eyes.

Just to make it clearer, you could italicize the “Please don’t finish” part, like: Please don’t finish, she implored with her eyes. (Nice word, implored, btw. Love the image it gives me)

“Dad, where’s Mom?” She asked.

Just make ‘she’ lowercase 🙂

I think this is just typo: With mixed feeling she opened the door and stepped outside.  I think it would be ‘With mixed feelings.. etc.’

BTW,  I really liked the simile: “Hair as soft as sparrow feathers, with waves like the ocean.” And the one about her eyes being like the sky after the storm? LOVED IT!

LOVED LOVED LOVED IT!!! I hope I didn’t sound harsh or anything. I have really hard time critique because I’m always nervous I’ll come across wrong…

 

 

 

"I threw stones at the stars, but the whole sky fell."

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