I opened the sliding door to my lush green garden; small, but all mine. I let my toes feel the grass underneath them and then tip toed to my washing line. I began to hang my sheets up in the mid afternoon light. Most people would have already gotten theirs in by this hour, but, there was something about this time. Something that made complete, perfect sense to me to hang out my dripping wet sheets as soon as I saw the sun begin to slip. The light tried it’s best to dance it’s way through the fabric, weaving it’s way around and in and out. It seemed to always want to do this; brushing my skin in a teasing sort of way, urging me to dance along with it. I stuck my nose up at it – I always did this, it was a game we liked to play, you see – and continued pegging; a sock with one peg, a sheet always with 6 – you can never trust that wind, but that’s another story -, a face towel with, let me see…one? Oh alright. I leaned down to my basket to pick out the last white sheet and there was that pesky light again; none the less shining in my eyes this time.

“Will you cut that out!” I whispered.

The light wrapped itself around me, in a way that I can only describe as defiant, and then after a few seconds raced off between the sheets. I could never keep a straight face after that move. I began to run, I began to leap, chase, bound. I found myself in between all the fabric. I felt small again. A world in which I am encompassed by clothes, sheets and towels that are now all too big. But where has that light got to? It was slipping further and further from my reach. It had the unfair advantage, you see; time. I didn’t like this bit. It was like those moments when your’e a child. You’ve lost your mothers hand, you’re left all alone. Fear has set in; primal, child-like tinged fear. In my mind, the one goal I had, was to catch that light. I’d always wanted that light.


Suddenly there it was, peaking out from behind a sheet, of course.
“There you are!” I sighed, relieved. But it still seemed out of reach, just always one step ahead, one fingertip between us. I called out again, my voice strained with worry, “This time you won’t let me catch you, why won’t you let me catch you?”

It remained a few more seconds, as if looking at me thoughtfully, and then off it went again. I sunk to the grass, tears filling in my eyes. The light was escaping me, the sun was setting now. The sky, like a dream, shone through the washing in the brightest orange and red. As if just to spite my mood. The light was gone. I was too late this time. I lay down on the grass for a second, feeling defeated, confused. The stars began to peak out, cheekily. Time to go inside, I thought. I crawled out of my fabric labyrinth, on all fours. Like a baby I took my first few steps to the washing basket, now abandoned. I picked it up and wandered inside, shutting the sliding door after me.


Just a little short story I wrote that I thought i’d share for you all to read. Interpreter it how you will, I guess. There’s a message in there, but I feel like its a few different things. Comment your thoughts!?

Love Brecon
Stay Gracious Xxxxooo


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