Grief before the end

Grief
Physically invisible
It doesn’t knock to be invited in
It’s felt, before the door has opened
The curtains bellow from the volume
Circling around

Gathering in strength
Some days your legs give way
An ebb and flow a dance of
Sorrow and of pain

It invades your personal autonomy
Stretching the silence into hidden tears
This before the need arises
Not knowing when the knock will be heard

So we bide the time
Wait and hope and see
Preparing ourselves to cope, to deal
The best way that we can
Until the real dance begins

“Well well well…what do we have here”

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Three footsteps and he stood silent, his leather boots no longer kicking up the dust.
He looked behind him and to his left. An over active imagination, tiredness, he shrugged, shook his head and continued walking past the out buildings and the well.

Then he heard it for the second time, perhaps a cat had fallen in and was crying out for help. Didn’t sound very much like a cat’s cry, he really didn’t have time this afternoon to save a cat, then again could he live with his conscience if he didn’t.

Kneeling down, he noticed how new the well wheel was, the cogs stood out sharp and crisp. He crouched momentarily admiring the craftsmanship.

He did not notice the long sinewy fingers that hooked onto the edge of the well pit or the deep crimson blood that dripped silently on to the clean brick steps.

He didn’t realise the strength that grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him in towards the darkness of the abyss or feel the blood spit from his mouth as its talons impaled his heart on his descent downwards.

Nor did he hear it purr with delight..

~~~~

For Alastairs – Photo Fiction Prompt – Everyone is welcome 🙂    150 words or less. Thanks Alastair!

http://alastairsphotofiction.wordpress.com/2013/06/02/photo-fiction-sunday-2nd-june-2013/