Today the prompt is basically repetition.
Nightmare.
Each night, most nights, but with no telling
When, a dream, a flash back to things that
Happened several years ago.
The sound of metal drinking on metal.
The endless ringing of the mobile phone
That was never answered.
The knock on the window and the sombre faces
At the door.
The soft words - I am afraid it is the worst news.
The long hours.
The kindness of a stranger.
The long hours.
The telephone calls the next day.
The long hours.
The careful planning about how things
Were to be managed, to make
Them feasible, one after another.
The well-meaning but destructive help of
Others who thought they knew best.
The long hours.
Realising, again and again and again that
This was real, and that it was not a bad
Dream, it was not a nightmare from which
I would awake.
The long hours.
It is as fresh today as it was then.
And the pain of added wounds has not faded.
The long hours.
There are things that cannot be put right.
Insults, hurt caused, angry words spoken.
The long hours.
Learning that in the end there is
No-one you can trust.
No-one.
The long hours.
The long hours.
(c) 2ndwitch
