Time, Like A Pendulum.

Contributed by on 08/08/08

Henderson, the couple were called… or Anderson.  Just married, they moved into number 13.

Within six months, he was out in the back, fixing the newly bought child’s swing to the apple tree.  He stood back from it, the hand holding the hammer perched upon his hip, his other shading his eyes as he gazed proudly upon his work.

The baby swing was played upon by autumn leaves and it moved in winter’s winds.

Over time, the sun took the colour from it and the rain washed it down to white.

They left the swing there when they moved away.

Henderson, they were called.  Or maybe Anderson.

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4 comments so far

  1. I really liked this. I thought it was elegant in its economy, and a reader could really make it his or her own. Nicely done.

    chris

    Reply


  2. Good write.

    George

    Reply


  3. Very nice… Often, the ideas I decide to write sound this concise in my head, but I always end up spoiling it.

    This remains unspoilt…

    Reply


  4. Thanks, fellas.

    Unfortunately, it only took 24 hours for Chris to trump the economy of this attempt with the brilliant line “Friends can’t understand why Tim and Cindy leave the swing up,” which I’d have loved to have first thought of here.

    Reply

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