Prompt for: Jan 22, 2016 (Ren) Subject or Theme: Any aspect of death (death, not mourning). (funerals, people or pets who have died, plants you've killed, murder, death rituals, metaphorical death, etc. Word(s) to Include: blanket, river (or any derivatives of these words) Forbidden Word(s): agony, death, die, kill, love, murder, tear (or any derivatives, compound or hyphenations of these words) Additional Parameters: At least 24 lines Remember, do not use forbidden words ANYWHERE, including title or the brief description. Awake Annie hated funerals. She used to say that they were for the living; not the departed. Annie hated open caskets too. No one looks like they are sleeping and no one, absolutely no one, looks good. They look like shells of themselves for the spark that made them who they are has been snuffed. Annie was plainspoken, no doubt. Annie wanted a closed casket, no flowers unless you hand-picked them yourself and a wake. Annie didn't want dreary organ music, no dirges for her. She wanted sprightly fiddles playing jigs to make you tap your toe to, reels to dance to and songs to sing. Homemade food and old stories -- the ones we've all heard a thousand times. Annie wanted children and her Basset hound running underfoot, paper plates and lots of Irish coffee. Annie wanted sunlight, birdsong, and laughter: deep belly laughs, giggles and good memories. Annie wanted folks to wake up and live; not suffocate in velvet curtained rooms walking on deep carpeting that swallowed sound. Annie didn't want black anything opting for color and brightness and life. Annie didn't want folks crying nor did she want anyone to curl up and hide under a blanket of sorrow. She always said that if she were in someone's heart that she would never leave... not really. It would be different, Annie said, as is the river, from one moment to the next, yet still the same waters flowing ever onward. Annie knew of what she spoke. More than most people I've ever met, Annie was, is, and always will be: awake! |