Well this is bizarre, even for me, the dedicated insomniac. I won't even peek at what kind of ungodly hour it might be, the gloomy, black nothingness outside my window reveals much… or nothing; who really knows?!?In the midst of creativity, I find I care not at all.
Fashionably(?) clad in my dressing gown and slippers, I'm valiantly trying to remain composed as I down my first cup of coffee for the day. Not being a caffeine-oholic, this quite often turns out to be the first of a maximum two, so it holds a rather important place in my life (uhrr, night/day, that is!). And from one of my much loved writing sites, a challenge passes by my 'as yet' bleary thinking… 'empty your pocket and write a small 'flasher' about what you find'.
In a clumsy and bumbling fashion, I find myself a tissue. ONE lonely, ever-so-slightly used, tissue. A flimsy and most unlikely scrap to build a story from, surely? And yet, memories are stirred, and like a breeze through autumn trees - ideas - exactly like those gorgeous crackling leaves, start to fall around me. Think I'll take a moment to swish through them, as though I'm a little kid again. (Isn't it seriously one of the loveliest sounds on Earth?)
Well-ll, THAT worked a treat, it turns out… thinking autumn leaves. Although this time, it's wisps of ideas that fall about me and engage my tapping fingers. All else fades back to that time Mum and I went to a morning movie session at her local picture theatre. A sumptuous morning tea, all home-baked by the local Red Cross Ladies auxiliary, or maybe the Country Women's Assoc., preceded the main event, a showing of 'The Horse Whisperer' with the gorgeous Robert Redford as the hero.
Being a 'rescuer extraordinaire' from time immemorial attracted me to yet another animal pic. Having a head full of airy-fairy imaginings left no room for the practicalities of bringing adequate mop-up supplies for what I knew would be a super sob-story for me.
As eyes filled and sniffles began, Mum saw my plight, fossicked in her pockets and handbag and came up with the princely treasure of one whole unused tissue. Phew! What a life-saver. And in rowdy moments, when the orchestral back-up soared to near-deafening proportions, or the horse (or was that its dear girlie owner??) was screaming their agony, I could get away with the heartiest of snuffles and whuffles. But what an embarrassment when my snowks lasted longer than that anticipated of the screams! Has there ever been a more carefully planned and attempted balancing act? Even the world's top tightrope-walker would have experienced a collywobble or three. Hmm... not so far from that little girl with her Mum at the pics after all?
Forever after, my dear Mum loved retold the story, embellishing it not a little, and always ending - "In my wildest dreams, I could not have imagined one tissue could hold SO many tears".
Author Bio:
Christine is Australian - writer, farmer, wife, mother, grandmother - in her 70’s -- living on their retirement farm. Her words and works took on new meaning with the recently confirmed diagnosis of Lung cancer. She faces the uninvited invader alone with her formidable strength of character and unique sense of humour.
She writes: Short stories, Flash-fiction in almost every genre, encompassing humour to deepest sadness.
Memoirs - growing up in 1950's Australia; farming; treasured collections.
Children's Stories – for ALL age readers; excellent ‘read-aloud’ stories by all loving care-givers.
Christine’s website: http://www.cdcraftee.com
Google: cdcraftee to find free reading of almost everything she’s written!
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