Dear Sores,

for the millionth time in the past couple of weeks, I wish I could stop scratching. The scabs are yet tender, and I can’t seem to leave them alone. What lies beneath their fragility is much more vivid than what I have to face now… and I can’t really bring myself to accept the fact that soon, they will dry and eventually scar.
There is not a damn thing I can do about it.
A part of me appreciates the faint stabs of pain you cause. Even when my eyes roam elsewhere, I know you are still with me. It is a somewhat comforting reminder of the depth of my feelings. After all, I found I am still human. For that, I am grateful.

Nevertheless I would ask of you to help me still my hands by muting your sometimes fierce and fiery tongues – because we both know, it will be for the better… in the end. You were never meant to stay.
Let’s both be brave and get this over with. I know you can do it.
And so can I.

Sincerely,
the Recovering

Dear Dishwasher,

It has been years since I last saw you and could greet you as a friend.
I think of you – think of the times I moaned and rolled my eyes whenever we had an encounter. I often pushed your buttons – and you were always forgiving.

People change.
I took you for granted and feel the need to apologize for the way I treated you. I was young and didn’t know what I was doing. I am so sorry.
Now, that you’ve been gone for so long, I can honestly say: I miss you. Dearly.

I am certain my dishes do not appreciate me invading their privacy every day – I often have to touch them in the most intimate places… it leaves us all feeling uneasy. Most of the time, we can’t even look each other in the eye afterwards… talk about awkward.

I want you to know that I can’t stop thinking about you. I saw your cousin at my friend’s house the other day – he looks a lot like you.

Perhaps one day, you will find your way back to me.
I will look for your coming.

With gratitude,
the Rueful

Dear Day,

I assume you think it’s fashionable to consist of nothing more than 24 hours.

Have you ever considered a prolonged visit? Perhaps 30-32 hours would be more fitting and might even underline your qualities in a more beneficial way – plus it would give us time to tend to things that really matter.
Less isn’t always more.
Sometimes I wish you would rethink your methods and grace us with your presence a little longer than deemed necessary.

I would ask of you to think about it.
Should you be willing to consider my request, I would be more than happy to schedule a meeting with the Sun and Moon to discuss cycles. I am positive we could come to a satisfactory conclusion for all parties involved.
Thank you for your time – I know it is precious.

Sincerely,
the Rushed

The Long Hours

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She had ribbons in her hair. Purple velvet, nested in a sea of auburn. Small amethyst beads on her neck sparkled softly in the lantern light, complimenting her radiant smile. Her dress billowed and swirled as she danced to the sole violin’s tune, her breathless laughter the sweetest music in his ears. They fell in love beneath the stars; and love, in all its forms, guided them throughout the years, until auburn turned gray, turned white.
When she left, his heart went with her.

On this November day, there is no warmth left in the sun. He gently touches the amethyst necklace, carefully placed on the wooden chair next to his. The tea in his tin cup has long gone cold. Trees shed their leaves in gusts of autumn wind, and his Longing counts the hours, until they meet again.

(140 words)

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Written for VisDare26: Engraved – 150 words or less. Grab a pen and join the fun!
photo credits: graphicmania.net