Much thanks to Friday Flash Fiction for publishing this 100-word story. Featured image by mwronga @ unsplash.com
~A Gentle Passing~
The night it happened, I didn’t hear the cries of my parents and younger brother. Instead, I was in a faraway reverie—deep into a somnolent paradise—a watercolor dream of rain clouds—a Japanese green grove and paddy field, a palette of gentle hues enshrouded the landscape—and I was a part of it. Like nature, I dwelled in innocence.
There was no pain—only peace. No violence, no intrusion to wake me from sleep. I slept protected, a little girl covered in the comfort of her blanket, dreaming of the misty sky and sweet raindrops against the windowpane. No harsh sounds except for the mysteries of the night.
How could I not forgive the world when I lingered in serenity? Its rain-soaked trees, milky marshes, and light brushstrokes of promise and hope.
And if I don’t wake, I want this painting as my lasting memory—a gentle passing through life. Love secrets engraved in a smoky warmth—unfinished.
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