Sunday, May 15, 2011


a story written from this prompt above
for Short Story Slam
thank you Bluebell books for inviting me to contribute

 One of them looks like a Wonder bread wrapper. I watch from afar as the balloons inflate,propane flowing to the burners which in turn fires the flames upward to the envelopes of cloth. I watch as they ascend and wish that I could be in one, as it untethers and disappears carried away by the sound of wind and flame.
If only pain were that easy to get away from.
My mother always pulls my parachute valve, wrapping her needy fingers around the silken cord that has bound us since my birth and yanks it so my life deflates before it can lift away.
She is alone, she is poor, she is sick, she is old. She is.
But I have found a man who wants me, loves me,and doesn't need me.  This time I will let my burners fire and be lifted up in a silken gown of white. This time I will yank that cord away from her
and watch the wonder of it all as I tighten the cord around her neck and the parachute valve opens and she descends into hell.
If only pain were that easy to get away from.
The wind blows my stringy hair across my face
and I know that I can only hold my stare upward into the sky and watch the balloons until they are but a speck in the sky,
my wonder released, barely visible.
May 11th's post


  1. love the subtle wrap from wonder to wonder...glad she got her freedom, it can be pretty constraining when a parent holds the cord well passed their time.

  2. oh but Brian...she didn't
    ..I guess that means back to the drawing...I mean ..writing board

  3. A powerful piece! So many layers. I am touched.

  4. Oh, Dear Suz, what a delight to have YOU!

    love the ending, free at last.

    have fun!

  5. Oh dear..she isn't free
    oh dear..that's why feedback is so helpful
    thanks everyone

  6. Great post Suz, your creative energy is on form as usual....

  7. It actually is the wonder bread hot air balloon :) it was at a wine festival in Oklahoma.

    Great piece of writing here.

  8. Missy! that is too funny
    ..the bread I grew up on..with baloney and butter
    thanks for your comment and for stopping by

  9. Is a dream of freedom the same as freedom? Probably not. She has so much to free herself from, at some point she really has to let go! Very creative work...

  10. A profound piece of writing ...reminiscent of a mother-daughter love-hate relationship ... ?

  11. Woah! beautiful writing, it was jarring to hear her dispair contrasted with the wonder (bread!) of the balloons!

    The other comments swayed me, I think, but still, when I went back to read it again, I didn't see that she had her freedom. I heard a wistfulness from watching the balloons.

  12. Very striking and poignant!

  13. Oh she did not get her freedom but rather stayed tethered..only watching the wonder of it (killing her mother) rising away
    Giving her her freedom would have been too easy..

    Oh well, it was written straight through....but I thank you all for your really helps me to see where I went wrong
    thanks a bunch Marion and Muso Blog hog and Lyn

  14. Suz,you really write what I think - you are the words to my mental poem. These constraints that our parents bestow upon us are so complicated - so dense. As usual, you cut right to the heart of the matter - thank you. And also - thank you for your compliment - my feet are the last good thing about my 50's...everything else has gone south!!!!
    Be good to yourself!!!

  15. Aah...
    Have a wonderful week, Suz o xx o

  16. Absolutely stunning piece. There is so much power in your words =)

  17. The ties that bind -- bind both mother and daughter. Nice piece, Suz!


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