Old lady Agatha sat outside on her plastic chair, with her plastic water bottle in hand. The thoughts hastily drifting to imprints. That one time, those yarns, that other time, those other yarns. She smiles. Memories of when plastic water bottles weren’t mod. Memories of a time when memories were only told through stories. Her smile widens. Yes indeed, memories of memories.
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We had to read this story two or three times before we understood the use of the word “imprints” to be a replacement for memories. A sad, but true, comment on our times. The art work was particularly appealing.
Melissa, once again, I really love your picture! It surely must be Picasso during his red period. 😊 Seriously, it just pulls me in. I guess it’s a little village? I can make out the roofs. It’s the colors I love. I don’t understand the story at all, but it fascinates me nonetheless. I like things I don’t immediately understand!
This is an example of folk art, one that I’ve painted. Thank you for your comments! Not wanting to go into explaining the story to death, but this is basically about a woman who has lost. Check out this plastic water bottle, why is it necessary? There used to be a time when friends would come over and converse, have laughs, tell funny stories, now everything has changed. She was fond of what once was, memories were made in this way. Now she is left with a trendy water bottle…something fairly new, something unknown. She settles with memories of memories because that is what she is left with. She will have to make do with the new. Smiling is possible, she can still count on that!
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I love your idea of “memories of memories.” Glad that you were able to write about plastic in a positive way.
Thank you, Margarida!
I love that you use your own artwork with your stories. I wouldn’t dare share mine – I think I’d better stick to my digital artworks. Am I right in presuming that the ‘yarns’ in your story refer to the type of stories told at the fireside, or equally social place, and repeated time and again? Just wanted to make sure I’m understanding your story correctly 🙂
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Yes, you’d be correct! Stories that are funny, told in social situations. I grew up in rural Nova Scotia, Canada. And it would be commonplace to say so and so “came over for a yarn today”. Meaning: A conversation, a memory, some gossip, or a yak. Sometimes this can be folklore, a piece of fiction. On the flip side this can also mean a piece of history, a walk down memory lane. Thanks for your question, Carrie. I wasn’t aiming to confuse anyone!
Hello, Melissa. When I read your story, I knew that plastic and bottled water had deep roots, and there is a hidden mystery about them. Thanks for pointing it out in your comment. Your idea about memories of memories was so moving. Well done.
Hello, Lotchie. I’m glad you enjoyed my story. I think as we get older a lot of us are left with the feeling that the world kind of carries on without us. Things change, and move forward whether we are ready for them to or not. I can see how memories of memories would be comforting in that situation.
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Yeah, you are right. You are welcome, Melissa.