My Descriptive writing pieces

Painful memories

The most beautiful of memories are the worst, cutting my insides as if they were shards of glass. This town was once my refuge, a place of guaranteed warmth even on the coldest of days. Just being here fills me a sadness I'll never fully shake, with every click of the Geiger counter it seals it deeper into my bones. The old store in which I bought sweet aduki bean treats falls into view, click, click, click. My eyes take in the tea house, perfect, perfectly empty. Without any need to close my eyes or force a memory I can hear Michael telling one of his crude jokes, a sparkle in his creased eyes as he checks to make sure the waitress is out of ear shot, click, click, click.

There should be a way to stop time when these things happen, when some human beings choose to wipe out another bunch of human beings, press a button, punch in a code, scan their retina or whatever it is they do. We should be able to just say, "No more; mo more suffering, time to throw the cards in the air and see where they fall." My feet stop moving on the street, the footfalls no longer ringing out for nobody to hear. On the sidewalk is a doll, and not just any doll, she was hand-crafted by Molly for her daughter. This memory is so different, so tangible that the street might as well have evaporated. A sweet voice comes to me, distant at first but growing stronger...

"Peter! Peter! Mama made me a doll. She's so pretty! Come see. Do you want some lunch?" It's Reiko, stepping over the sidewalk, her petite frame almost blown by the strong fall wind. The idea of lunch with Molly is too good to pass up, she's so strong in her opinions, so kind in her deeds. The doll is still being held aloft, waggling for approval before my face, a tiny smile stitched on.

A grin I didn't know was coming breaks out over my face and I nod. "She's beautiful just like you, Reiko, and I'm so hungry. How wonderful of you to invite me to lunch."