flickr photo credits: (1) bionicteaching (2) bionicteaching (3) Serenae (4) bionicteaching (5) bionicteaching
Five Card Story: The Hands
a Five Card Flickr story by Madison Morrison created May 30 2015, 08:16:06 pm. Create a new one!
about this story
When I woke up, I could feel the misleading light from the sun peeking into the room through the window; I knew the Fall air would still feel sharp against our skin. We lived in an old brick house, with many rooms and windows. Every morning I woke up to an eerie silence, the kind that you expect to hear right before a startling scream. I could see the barren trees standing in the yard, their red and orange leaves scattered on the ground. I couldn’t take the silence, I got out of bed and tip toed down the hallway to my brothers room; he wasn’t there. I wandered down the stairs to the kitchen but everyone was gone, it was just me in that big empty house. I decided to pack myself a lunch and carry it off to the park down the street. I made a sandwich, bagged some grapes and a piece of sweet bread that my mother had made the night before. Immediately after stepping outside, my assumption was confirmed; the light from the sun was deceiving and the cool Fall air felt crisp against my face. I meandered down the road until I came upon a brick wall with two dripping white hand prints. I stopped for a minute and stared at the wall, wondering who these mysterious hands belonged to, what they have done, where they have been and how they ended up there. I decided to continue on my journey. In the park, I found a nice tree to sit under and finish my lunch. When I realized I was out of food, I looked up and noticed all the people in the park that day. There were families and children running around in the grass, there were lovers cuddling on benches along the path way through the park. I got up and wandered away from my tree. I came across a pond in the middle of the park, I began circling the perimeter investigating the water as I went along. There was an old baseball floating near the shore; I imagined one of those scary movies where the kid stumbles upon a floating body in the river. I gazed at the baseball in the water, half expecting it to turn into a face. I devised a story in my mind where the ball in the water belonged to the mysterious hands on the wall. Again I asked myself, what it has done, where it has been and how it ended up there. For the entire walk back, I wondered what people might think when they come across things that I have left behind; will they think of me at all? When I got to the wall, I finally understood the white dripping hands and I decided to place mine next to them the following day.
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flickr photo credits: (1) bionicteaching (2) bionicteaching (3) Serenae (4) bionicteaching (5) bionicteaching