Challenge
Challenge of the Month II
The Gift. Write the story of a gift, passed from one hand to another. Perhaps it is a heart-warming gesture of kindness and goodwill. Or perhaps it is something more foreboding, more sinister. Perhaps it is a simple, material object. Or perhaps it is something more amorphous, more esoteric. Whatever it is, it must be a gift. Fiction or non-fiction, poetry or Prose.
The Gift of Yourself, Your Mess, and the Time You Have Left
Too much time spent crying over spilled milk.
Instead of cleaning up, I let it sit.
I only guess at why I let it happen.
How could I let it slip from my fingertips?
One more long day over, but one more year long gone.
I keep getting older, but the rest are moving on.
Counting down the days until that something.
Counting on that something to be it.
The reason for the messes held behind me.
That all of those were adding up to this.
But there is no something.
There is no it.
There is no reason.
There is no this.
There’s just me, and
There’s my mess, and
There’s the time that I have left.
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