Time’s Paths
Maria looked at her face in the mirror and wondered how long some of those fissures and grooves had been there. Time can be so cruel, she thought. She didn’t like how others looked at and spoke to her.
She couldn’t understand why they didn’t see what she saw and felt to be true about herself. She felt no different than the 16-year-old girl at the debutante ball. She still enjoyed playing the guitar. She still could dance all night if she wanted.
But she couldn’t erase the paths time had painted on her face.
Image source: Unsplash
This flash fiction is in response to the Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge.
May 11, 2016 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story, using the power of erosion. It can be natural, cultural or something different. Is the force personified or does it add to the overall tone? You can use the word in its variations, or avoid the word and write its action.
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Each of those etchings tells a story. Until you get there, it’s difficult to believe what the old ones say, “Inside I’m still the young person I always was. Only the outside has changed.”
I agree with Norah. Each one tells a story, shows how many times you’ve smiled and perhaps what genes you’ve been dealt. I don’t know that I feel no different to when I was 16 (in fact I’m jolly glad I feel quite differently) but I know how your woman felt in your great flash.
Each line is a story better expressed through her music!
Ah, Ula, so bitter-sweet, and I bet every person on this planet can relate to this flash. Timeless and universal.