Nula had been disappearing into the night regularly since the miscarriage. He reassured her that everything was going to be fine, but the sleepwalking hadn’t stopped. He was going to find out where she went.
Euan gave her a head start, pretending he was asleep, and he just remembered to grab her thick coat and boots on his way out the door, following her footprints in the snow until they arrived at a copse, where the full moon broke through clouds.
When he draped the coat around her shoulders, his wife awoke with a start. ‘I went out to the hazel wood, because a fire was in my head,’ she said. ‘The wise woman told me that a good show of hazel catkins foretold a year with lots of babies’.
They returned to the house hand in hand, carrying branches of bright yellow catkins.
Kim M. Russell, 15th February 2021
My response to dVerse Poets Pub Poetics: Prosery: The Song of Wandering Aengus
I’m hosting Prosery at the dVerse Poets Pub today, where we are writing very short pieces of prose that tell stories, with a beginning, a middle and an end, in any genre, with a limit of 144 words, with an additional challenge to hit 144 exactly. The line from a poem, which must be included somewhere in our stories has been taken from ‘The Song of Wandering Aengus’ by William Butler Yeats.
Free image found on Pixabay.
Wow, I gasped at the ending! This is poignant, heartbreaking, and bittersweet as it ends with a lilt of hope for the future. Very well-written and visceral.
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Thank you, Lucy!
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Well I felt this one personally because like so many other women I’ve been through this. Those ‘bright yellow catkins’ as a symbol of hope really gave me a lump in my throat!
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I love your reaction, Ingrid. Thanks so much!
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Thank you for your thoughtful writing 🙏
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This is incredibly heart-stirring, Kim! 💝💝 I am especially moved by the image; “They returned to the house hand in hand, carrying branches of bright yellow catkins.” It reminds us that there is hope despite adversity, despite woe. No doubt, one of the most difficult things to endure for a couple is miscarriage.
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Thank you, Sanaa. Yes, there is always hope, although it doesn’t always seem like it at the time.
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This is a beautiful story that, I’m certain, resonates with many women. A miscarriage is so very difficult….and when wanting children, the difficulty of seeing others with their babies…trying month after month….I remember lighting candles in church. So yes…..the gathering of catkins in this tradition is entirely understandable. Wonderful story made alive by the dear characters your write about here.
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Thank you so much, Lill. This story budded from long-distant memories and then wrote itself.
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I really hope that the magic of catkins works… I love how you started out with a mystery and ended with something so very believable….
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You can’t go wrong with old medicine and old magic, Bjorn. 🙂
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I like the idea that she was walking out to the catkins in her dreams each night but had no idea she was really walking there until her husband woke her up. I hope there are many children on their horizon.
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Thanks Lisa – me too!
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Beautiful! I’m a big fan of Yeats. I’m reading a massive collection of his poems right now 🙂
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Thank you for reading and commenting, Nick! I hope to have some time to re-read Yeats in the near future.
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I’ve been avoiding poems/stories that mention miscarriage for the past few months, being pregnant makes it a difficult topic to try and interact with, and I’m far more prone to tears at the moment than I normally am. I love the quiet support from her other half in this. It’s a delicate and sad topic, but there’s a strength and kindness to that support.
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Oh Carol, I’m so sorry. When I wrote this I completely forgot about your wonderful news. I’m glad you picked up on the support and hope in this story.
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Oh, that poor woman! I can imagine her pain. I really enjoyed this. I feel like there could be more to this.
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Thank you, Merril. I hope, at some point in the future, to develop some of my flash fiction into longer stories and possibly another novel, but I have one to finish and my husband’s memoir to edit, so it won’t be for a long time.
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I like the way your story starts out leaving us to wonder what is to come, but leaving us on a note of love and desire for what is to come! Well done. Loved the music video. He is and excellent guitarist and vocalist!
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Thank you, Dwight.
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So sad. Miscarriage does take you into a different world with different rules. The last lines are particularly poignant.
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Thank you, Jane. Losing a baby is tragic at whatever stage of development. You never forget.
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No, it’s always that effort and anticipation lost.
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Oh how achingly told, Kim, the pain and the promise all folded into this tale!
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Thank you so much, Dora!
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A very well written tale. Miscarriage, like abortion, is soaked in dark and bitter emotions. Your story is sculpted well to fit into its preset parameters, and is capped with hope, which is a welcome ending.
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Thank you, Glenn.
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Nice one, the superstiton twist is gentle sweet abd alluring
Happy Monday
Much💗love
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Thank you, Gillena – happy Tuesday! 😉
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Definitely real-worldish KR. great stuff.
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Cheers Ron!
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A beautiful and hopeful tale. (K)
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Thank you, Kerfe.
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Beautiful blending of the Irish mythology into your story. Well done!
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Thanks so much, Bev!
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Engaging tale Kim, well penned! Also, I learned a new word today — catkins.
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Thank you so much, Rob. I grew up with catkins, which we used to bring to our teacher every spring for the nature table – although they were hard to find in South London. Luckily we had a common nearby.
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Kim,
Wow; I can really imagine all of this – it’s so plausible and human. How poignant.
-David
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Thanks David! It has a sprinkling of personal experience without too much detail.
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Beautiful and sad. There is magic in her dreams.
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Thank you, Erica.
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I love this piece, Kim. It grabbed me right away. Good stuff!
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Cheers!
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Kim, there is magic in the way you write … the reader feels connected, experiences whirlwind emotions, deeply. (I also learned a new word.)
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Thank you so much, Helen, your kind words mean a lot to me.
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