photo prompt by Jules Paige.
The gray, overcast skies matched his mood. John had a bad habit of staying in relationships long past their demise. She was waiting for him at the end of the pier. Their spot. John was beginning to regret that he didn’t suggest they meet at the cafe on the corner.
“Hey. Hope you haven’t been waiting long,” he lied. He was late, hoping she’d get mad and leave, allowing him to do this by text. No such luck.
Darla turned around when she heard his voice. She had been crying. “There you are,” she sniffled.
“I’m sorry I was late. Darla, we need to talk.”
“We do John. I’ve been sitting here wondering how I was going to tell you this. But you go first,” she looked at him through tear stained eyes.
“No. You go ahead.” Maybe she realized it too, John hoped. Then he wouldn’t have to be the bad guy.
Darla sighed, “I’m pregnant John. We’re going to have a baby.”
kat – 31 March 2017
For Sunday Photo Fiction based on his photo prompt by Jules Paige.
It’s Friday in most parts of the world right now. I was going to say as I usually do, “Happy Friday” but I can’t assume to know if it is happy where you are. I’m not even sure if I am happy in this moment. Content maybe, but happy? Happiness takes effort. Which brings me to today’s dictionary.com Word of the Day, Weltschmerz. Leave it to the Germans to fashion a word that captures the day in day out ruts that we find ourselves languishing in.
Do you ever wonder if this is all there is? Weltschmerz is “the sorrow that one feels and accepts as one’s necessary portion in life.”
It is also defined as “sentimental pessimism”. As you can imagine, many a writer has penned this word.
Weltschmerz (the w sounds like a “v”) even sounds resigned to a certain apathetic resolve. It is what it is…weltschmerz. It’s a combination word that means “world” (welt) and “pain” (schmerz) first appearing in the 19th century by German Romaric Writer Jean Paul, pen name of Jean Paul Friedrich Richter (1763-1825), in his novel Selina (1827). But it also found its way into English 50 years later and into modern literature by such authors as John Steinbeck, Kurt Vonnegut, Ralph Ellison and Henry Miller.
In researching this word it was described as “obscure German sorrow”, which led me down another wormhole to discover a modern English version of this concept.
Created and written by graphic designer and editor John Koenig, the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows is a melancholic writer’s treasure trove of newly created “feeling” words. It’s an amazing collection. If you want to explore more check out his blog here or better yet check out his YouTube entries; beautiful narrations set to music and photos that illustrate these new words.
Back to weltschmerz and my task for today…to write a Haiku poem. While I can’t presume to know if your day is happy at the very least I can wish you happiness in this crazy spinning world. I hope you have a happy weekend too. 😊
moments slip away
mindlessly lost in weltschmertz
no seizing the day
~kat – 31 March 2017
PHOTO PROMPT © Fatima Fakier Deria
I grew up on an island. My family’s business was fish.
All us kids had jobs. Mine was collecting fish guts, tails, heads in a bucket; bait for the next day’s catch.
I hated it; the salty air, the fishy smells and slimy ooze.
When I graduated from college I landed my dream job and settled in the city, as far away as possible from the coast.
My company recently transferred me to its new office. “You’ll love the view,” they said.
Funny! Ended up where I started but with a bird-eye view. Have to admit, I do love it.
kat – 30 March 2017
For Rochelle Wisoff-Field’s Friday Fictioneers challenge based on this photo by Fatima Fakier Deria.
photo by Caleb Woods via Unsplash
Charlie spent months researching, attending conferences, test driving models, doing side-by-side feature comparisons and saving extra cash, a lot of it, until he settled on the perfect drone.
On the day of her maiden voyage, Natasha (Charlie liked to name things) was magnificent to behold hovering in the wild blue sky, dipping, weaving, soaring, with Charlie at the controls orchestrating her every move until a gust of wind tossed her just out of radio contact range.
Charlie felt the hiccup first in his fingers, like a skipped heartbeat, the empty disconnect that plunged him into despair and poor Natasha into the middle of a nearby lake where she sunk and settled into the ooze, never to be seen again.
~kat – 30 March 2017
For Sonya’s Three Line Tale Challenge based on this photo prompt by Caleb Woods via Upsplash.