Rosa's Finale

Prompt: Take a poem and rewrite as a story.  Our twist: each of us will write a part of the story, writing for 10-15 minutes each.  See Aug 20 for the beginning, Sept 6 for the middle. Now here is the end:

I shift in the wooden chair, my backside numb after several hours. The wispy, thin curtains do little to shade from the sun, shining a light on her pale, aging skin. She no longer forces a weak smile to appease my breaking heart. The pain must be too great.

I tried to do for her what she taught me to do for others. Pick the plants that speak to me, that promise that their energy holds the cure. Dry, burn and smash into a fine powder. But she refuses treatment with a wave of the hand and tight lips. I know not to argue. We had all agreed to respect her decision. But I never thought it would happen so soon.

A hand rests on my shoulder. "Why not go outside, take a break," my other mother says. I nod, but take fifteen minutes to rise and shuffle out the room.

I walk through the woods and find myself by the tree I hid behind when I first met my new family. The high noon sun pokes through the branches. Leaning against the rough bark, I inhale. Sweet and spicy textures tickle my nose. The breeze cools my skin.

A blur darts in front of me, followed by a humming buzz. A bee dances in a figure eight. Stingless, harmless, the source of nothing but sweet, golden food. Just like the three beautiful ladies in my life.

PlayWrite
http://sonjathomaswrites.blogspot.com/

...continuing Rosa... [see post on August 20th]

     It's those early memories I cling to today as the older one shrinks in her bed.  Her once generous body now hollowed and shallow.
     I remember the first time she showed me the book.  The one passed down from so many ancestors. Its pages yellowing and binding frayed.  My shaky fingers had hovered over the print as my eyes soaked in the unfamiliar language.
     She'd whispered its story to me as her mom had to her so many years before.  My eyes had welled.  It was that day I knew I finally belonged.  I had promised then to look after the sick as she had done.
     And now I look after her.