Talking Sense

Sadie’s picture prompt from this week.

She was drowning, in a sea of total despair, when someone nearby saved her.

A young woman, in her early twenties, pulled Tara to the shore, and waited in silence until Clara stopped crying.

‘Why did you save me?’

‘Because you needed my help.’

Clara looked up to the woman, and there was a familiarity about her face. Yet this was the first time they had met. Her eyes were the purest of green, and hair greying at the sides.

‘How did you know I needed help?’

‘I saw you there, drinking your tea, looking like you need a friend, and I wanted to introduce myself.’

‘I’ve met you before . . .’

‘Many times, but you won’t remember me.’

Clara sipped at her tea, and didn’t feel so alone. This stranger didn’t have a name, but she was there to help. There was a sense of calm, and her problems didn’t have any strength with her around.

‘Do you want to talk about it,’ the stranger said.

‘Yes please . . .’

All her problems, from the beginning, were talked about. Every so often the stranger smiled, or held her hand. By the end, when all her worries were laid out like petals, they were scooped into pile and put inside a cloth bag.

‘I’ll take them with me,’ she said.

Talking about her worries, and somehow they didn’t seem as relevant any more. As the stranger walked away with her bag, she picked up the phone. Talking helped, but she was talking to the wrong person.

She picked up her mobile and called her husband.

Published by writerravenclaw

I am a fifty something mother of two grown up children, and one beautiful grandchild. I have been married for nearly thirty-four years. My first book was published ten years ago. I wrote my book Sticks and Stones because of my experience of being bullied at school.

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