Fear

Genre: Fiction
Word Count: 100

Fear

I’ve heard it said that a woman should never be afraid of her own life. Yet I am. Every day the crowd multiplies. I grow old. The room grows smaller. Am I to be buried alive? Not with grave dirt, but with ghosts. The more confined I, the more rampant they. What diabolical art is this, that the dead suck life out of those they abhor? My nights are theirs to engorge upon in hopeless pain, my days spit out remnants of their celebration. For as vines strangle and overgrown briars encroach, my ghosts encircle me. And I am afraid.


Come along and join in with Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers and Eugi’s Weekly Prompt. Eugi asks us to use any variation on the word prompt (“celebration”).

Rochelle asks that we use the photo prompt (above, © Alicia Jamtaas) and limit our words to 100 or less. Click on the frog to read more stories and participate.

Author: Dora

The unearned splendor of being means we can always meet on a common plane of gratitude, aiming in conversation, art, or writing towards “something understood.”

51 thoughts on “Fear”

  1. Wow! Brilliant piece, Dora, and very relatable as we age. I love your lines ” Every day the crowd multiplies. I grow old. The room grows smaller.”.

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    1. Susan,
      Thanks for asking, but no, except for old age closing in. But I can easily imagine myself in this state were the pain in our past inescapable and hopelessness takes over. Despair is just a step away from hope. I think what (or Who) we place our hope in makes all the difference. Appreciate your comments so much, Susan.
      pax,
      dora

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I wonder if some detestable guilty past is catching up with her and playing with her mind.
    Perhaps she just stopped doing the garden and it is really creeping, slowly with the intention to consume her frail body.

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  3. I felt for your character, for the fear of all the uncertainties that come with growing older as well as the loss of loved ones. Fear of ghosts who passed before and of memories that threaten to suffocate her. Very well written, Dora!

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  4. What a great allegory for growing old and trying to ward off thoughts and fears that are new and are growing every day. With help, she might overcome it and get some joy of life back.

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  5. You’ve written a disturbing story about growing old fearfully. Powerfully imagined, Dora. May we all have the wisdom to cherish our memories rather than fearing them.

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