I close the cottage door with a soft click and turn onto the road that leads past cottages and bungalows. The smell of hot earth and sun-scorched hay stubble settles over the village’s fields and lanes, where wilting scarlet poppies congregate. Before the small hump-backed bridge, I turn right, feel prickles of dry grass through the soles of my thin shoes, and gasp at the coolness of the air coming from below the bridge and the water that laps at the moorings. I sit on the welcoming bench and watch a pair of swans until I drift with them. Above me, trees bend their branches, creating soft moving dapples and deeper shadows. I am lost in reverie until through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings. Is it a swan? No, it’s me! I think I’ve found my voice again.
Kim M. Russell, 16th August 2022
After a very long hiatus, which has been a bit of a bumpy ride health-wise, I’m excited to be back at dVerse, initially to join in with some of the prompts. Lisa is our Prosery host this week with a line from a poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr., from ‘The Chambered Nautilus’.
Lisa reminds us that Prosery can be flash-fiction or creative non-fiction; cannot exceed 144 words in total (sans title); must not be poetry (no versification, line breaks, meter, etc); and must include the given poetry line, word for word, within the prose.