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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Purposefulness (Purpose in Life) (05/25/06)
In 1975, A grain of sand, it lay solemn and unhindered by life’s ways. Along it and it’s million relatives wanders a single fire ant. Without hesitation, the legs of the creature glide in unison with one another to create a forward motion. He finds his way to the edge of a stagnant pond, lukewarm and nearly incapable of breeding life. Within this mess lives a large school of tadpoles. Some of which are beginning to sprout legs, some undernourished and fighting for survival. Five of every ten will perish in the wake of extreme heat, Three of the ten will become men, and leap into froghood, the final two will serve as nutrients to their fish brothers. From swimming aimlessly through small bodies of water, these microscopic particles of what were once a whole, will pump through bile and blood, a sacrifice which creates life. This sacrifice made possible by the feet of the a two year old whooping crane. One dive into an Omaha puddle carried the tadpole across the borders into a Kansas City catfish farm. The banks of this kidney shaped quarter mile mud pit are littered with an array of human beings, from all over the spectrum. An elderly man, overalls tattered and torn from six years of daily abuse, casts his line gently into the water. He hopes for a bite, but wont leave unfulfilled in the event of an empty ice chest. For next to this old man stands a child, three years, four months, eight days, and sumteen hours. The boy belongs to the man’s daughter. The small child holds the cork end of a miniature rod, unaware of anything but the opportunity at hand. A fish, an achievement, a flashbulb memory for the photo album.
In 2035, On the lap of a new old man, resides a toddler. His eyes shut, breathing steadily, heart pumping. No other location on a globe, or imaginable circumstance could breed the feelings of this very moment. Grandaddy reading the words aloud, of a book known well to many, Grandfather twilight. As the final words are recited, the book is closed. And the man joins the baby in slumber. The daughter of the old man, also the mother of the infant, finds joy in a snapshot of the sleeping duo.
In 2065, the Coffin lay open the body full of chemicals, in order to avoid the appearance of a corpse. A single kiss graces the forehead of the man, a kiss from his only daughter. After the last goodbye, she sheds a tear and places a photo on a small oak table accompanied by a bouquet of lilies. The picture was taken thirty years ago amidst an afternoon nap, just grandaddy and baby. In this photo, next to the resting pair, sits a black and white picture in a weathered silver frame. Of a small boy, on the lap of a different grandfather holding a fishing rod, wearing a smile for no other reason but love. A different era, the same principal. Marking this death not a tragedy, but a gateway for new beginnings, memories, life, love, and most importantly the discovery of happiness.
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Member Comments
Member
Date
Sherril Wendling
06/03/06
You clearly have a keen mind and a great deal of originality here! However, on the whole I am still a bit fuzzy about exactly what you were building toward, how it fit with the topic...By keeping focused on your audience (as if you were writing a letter or having a conversation), I think your keen talent will find its connection with the readers' hearts. Keep writing and smiling!
Amy Nicholson
06/04/06
I am confused about what your intention was here. How does it relate to the topic? Maybe it's too deep for me. I am, nonetheless, intrigued. I can see this all in my mind as if it were on film. (I also learned something about my dear little tadpoles. Thank you for that.) Keep writing. Your writing is colorful and profound.