September 9, 2015 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about someone or something that’s lost. It can be lost in a setting (storm, darkness, ocean) or it can be a feeling. Is there a recovery? What are the consequences of remaining lost? What are the opportunities?
This is the latest prompt from Charli Mills at the Carrot Ranch. We all lose things, though not always the same things: our way, our innocence, our moral compass, our hope, our taste for marshmallows, our faith in Crystal Palace’s hopes of Premiership survival.
Some just happen and we may not notice until we look back. Some go in an instant and our breath is taken away.
And it kind of hurts most when what’s lost isn’t replaced, when there is a horror vacui – nature abhorring a vacuum – if a hole, the vacuum isn’t filled, it hurts to all buggery.
I wondered what losses are those that create a horror vacui, for me? Losing family for sure would be awful. I suspect losing those elements of self image that define me will prove tricky. Self respect. Is that ego? Probably. These are the things that give life a meaning and if you take away meaning, you hollow out your raison d’etre.
Over at the flash factory, we are with Mary and her daughter Penny, worried about a loss.
The Scent of the Past
Penny ran into Mary’s bedroom. ‘Mum, where’s that green scarf?’
‘Where did you put it?’
‘It was, like, April, mum.’
‘There’s that red one…’
‘It was Grandpa’s.’
‘It’s only a scarf.’
‘It’s all I have left of him.’
Mary held her daughter. ‘There’s all that’s in here.’ She tapped Penny’s head. ‘You never lose that. You might think you’ve forgotten what he looks like, but then you smell something – tiramisu and he’s there pulling that face.’
Penny laughed. ‘He hated that. He said it was like eating dung.’
Mary nodded. If only she hadn’t lost her faith in him.
Here is the story so far