Writing Prompt

The grey sea churned as the wind buffeted the cliffs. Great waves hulking like stampeding elephants in the distance.

The salty spray mottled his face as he sat, contemplative despite the blast of the elements all around him.

His duffle coat clapped furiously, and the noise kept him grounded in the present. In this place it had been all too easy to get lost in the past.

He’d long since given ...

Look how it drips thickly and lushly to the ground. Dutch tilted using the floor as a post-surgical crutch. That last drip drop seeping into the matted rug. Crumbs of stale nachos as the friendly neighbour, with encrusted chunky chocolate ice-cream on dusty pillow case adjacent. Milky and mottled cream rug is dog-haired using cigarette burns as an experimental artist’s facade. The ping of the drop...

It’s been two years exactly since you took your last breath. We all stood by your side, for hours, holding your hands, telling you to let go, as you breathed the death rattle, fighting to live, even though you were basically brain dead. Those moments are so much more haunting and traumatic and beautiful than most could ever understand.

I. Am. Angry. Why? Why you? You were the greatest man I have...

It’s a slow and painful road, my friend.

Time is the healer to your open wounds,

and your memories are a distant reminder of what used to be.

You’ll cry for the first month, maybe year.

But soon you will smile fondly at the memories.

You will remember the person who was alive, not the dead capsule of their soul.

And then, once your heart has mended,

you’ll be free. ...