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February 14, 2012
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Content Rating Notice:  Recommended for Readers 18 Years and Older Only
  >> Book >> Writing >> ID #1565859  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
Writing Day By Day
Challenging myself to write 500 words per day!
Rated:
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Entry #652990, added on 06-03-09 @ 7:23 pm EDT
   Entry Access Restriction: None.
June 3--500 WordsEntry #652990

Suze looked out over her overgrown backyard in disgust. The combination grass and weeds were nearly a foot high with vines and flowering shrubs tangled amongst it. Her uncle mowed for her for free and she was at his mercy as to the schedule. He would most likely be another week at least. He always let it get up before he came, mowed and left. Not that mowing helped much. He hadn’t weedeated the place in near three years and nowadays he refused to mow outside the chain link fence, saying it was the city’s job to do so.
She had so wanted to plant a nice flower garden, make the place presentable. Last spring she had spent several hundred dollars on flowering plants and shrubs. None of it ever saw the soil. It was just too depressing to try to make a garden when the lawn was less than desirable. This year she had planned on planting vegetables as well but that didn’t come to fruition either.
She would have apples this year, though. She noted the small green orbs dotting the tree. The mockingbirds had surely nested there again this year. They had for the ten years she had lived in this house, often singing lullabies to her when she lay awake at night. Their young learned to fly and fend for themselves in the safety of her trees and birdfeeders.
She could break down and purchase a mower and do the yard work herself, but she couldn’t handle the heat of summer. She would get sick and be down for days, refusing to go out into the cursed heat. She couldn’t even afford to hire a teenager to mow for her. She cursed her uncle.
Turning away from the window she faced her gloomy home. She had let the cleaning chores get away from her. For awhile she had been depressed and simply didn’t care what her home looked like. Now it was piled up with trash and dishes and whatnot. She knew that she had countertops but couldn’t find one at the moment. She didn’t know where to start. Overwhelmed, she ambled to the bedroom and lay on her bed. Sleep. If she slept, she wouldn’t have to feel anything, she wouldn’t have to face anything.
Once laying down, she felt the stirrings to get things done. She could get some trash bagged up and then maybe load the dishwasher. Suze sat up and the feeling went away, she lay back down. When did she become like this, a shell of the woman she once was? She had been vibrant and had energy. Her house was never spotless but it was certainly presentable. Now she was like a bag lady with a house. She took little pride in herself or her surroundings. She used her uncle’s negligent mowing habits as an excuse but she knew it wouldn’t wash. She was stuck in a rut, in limbo.
Resolving to find herself again, Suze began to make a plan.















© Copyright 2009 Nikola (UN: nmarshall at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Nikola has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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