The prompts where this image and this phrase (word limit 150 words):
“my/your/their/our aging iridescent dreams”
My hope is that when I am old and sitting by a duck pond, I feel alive. Beautifully and gloriously alive. No more than that.
Have No Regrets
Sunlight on water. I throw a stone and watch it fragment, scatter into flecks of gold. Fairy treasure, I think. Or I would have thought that once. I would have seen dryads in the trees, heard whispers on the wind.
Looking down I see my mother’s hands where mine once where. Broad, capable, worn by life. Red palms, blunt nails. Caring hands, working hands. I loved my mother’s hands but I don’t love mine.
A child’s shout breaks my reverie. He drags an old stick from the water, laughs for the sheer pleasure of it. It’s a sword in his hand; he’s a knight, a soldier.
Dreams. Fantasies. Truth.
They don’t age, not really. I see the gold on the water once more, iridescent. It’s an enchantment cast by the Lady of the Lake. And I? I’m a sorceress. A queen.
Leaning back on the bench I laugh.