She missed him.
She missed the way he'd shriek when she pushed the swing higher. His laugh when his father gave him lollipops. The sing-song “Moooom!” when he returned from play-school. His scream when the sky thundered.
The river had drowned not just her son, but all noise in her house as well, leaving behind silence. A quiet that pressed in on her ears, like the fuss he'd kick up when he saw spinach on his plate. A quiet that weighed heavily in her heart, hammering against its floodgates, letting out the all-consuming grief.
The quiet was everywhere, refusing to be erased, like the crayon scribbles on the walls.
She missed the way he'd shriek when she pushed the swing higher. His laugh when his father gave him lollipops. The sing-song “Moooom!” when he returned from play-school. His scream when the sky thundered.
The river had drowned not just her son, but all noise in her house as well, leaving behind silence. A quiet that pressed in on her ears, like the fuss he'd kick up when he saw spinach on his plate. A quiet that weighed heavily in her heart, hammering against its floodgates, letting out the all-consuming grief.
The quiet was everywhere, refusing to be erased, like the crayon scribbles on the walls.
Very evocative Zainab. I can feel her sorrow.
ReplyDeleteEvocative is the highest praise I can ask for. Thank you so much! :)
DeleteBrilliant writing.
ReplyDeleteWow, that was so powerful and heart-wrenching in so few words. Wonderful job!
ReplyDelete#atozchallenge, Kristen's blog: kristenhead.blogspot.com
Thanks Kristen. I'm glad you think it's wonderful.
DeleteThis is so amazing. Sad. The play of words brilliant.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Jules!
Delete