Stand Still: A Response to the Sixth Prompt

I don’t know what it is about springtime but it makes me want to stand still—all blue sky, fresh-cut flowers on the sill, toes dipped in mud. In springtime, it’s all too easy to look outside through the doorway and see my life unfold with him; a wedding in the garden, the soft top of a baby’s head, plucked raspberries put into wicker baskets. In springtime, I remind myself to remind myself of my youth, of time, the privilege of choices. I try to not let the pressure of the decisions I tell myself I have to make compact me into stone.

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