Water
Against doctor’s orders, my mother bore me through a warm tub of it. A priest baptized me in it. My mother washed me, my sister, and our chocolate Labradoodle with it. I splashed, swam, and dove under it. Squirted it. For ten bucks, I’d clean Dad’s Ford using it. Once I hiked in New Mexico carrying nowhere near enough of it. I’ve fished it, sailed on it, and sprinkled my tomato plants with it. When I married, it pelted down all over us. I’ve always drunk it. And now, drifting in this ocean, I fear I could drown in it.
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I love this Cecil! It flows so well too — just like water.
This story flows so flawlessly from one idea to another, Cecil. It pelted down with rain on my wedding day too! Such happy memories right up until the end, like life flashing before your protagonist’s eyes I suppose. And then we’re left wondering.
The last line of your story left me with a sense of foreboding, Cecil. Up until then, it was a lovely, nostalgic walk through life. Nicely done.
Cecil, I really liked this, how your story reiterated how water forms part in our daily lives, often in things that seem insignificant like squirting it. Yet, looking back, those little things bring much joy. As Emily and Carrie pointed out, the ideas flow so well from the one to the next. The ending also left me wondering.
Love the simplicity, yet wisdom of your story. It flows clearly like fresh water. Well done, Cecil.
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I loved that. Clever touches like the chocolate coloured dog and very believable. Made me think up my own version – baptised in it at birth 2 months premature, and as a child bathed in the ‘scullery’ sink.
Hello, Cecil. I liked it so much. The flows and touches of words are so cleverly made. Well done. Keep on writing.