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Tag Archives: father

The Second Time

04 Thursday Mar 2021

Posted by SebnemSanders in blog post, Fiction, Flash Fiction, micro-fiction, publications, Uncategorized

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Tags

amreading, amwriting, arts, authority, budgies, cello, control, family, father, Fiction, Flash Fiction, freedom, loss, mahler, Micro Fiction, music, pain, passion, science, support, talent, writerscommunity

My flash fiction story, The Second Time, is in the March Issue of The Bosphorus Review of Books. Many thanks to the Editor-in-Chief, Luke Frostic.

Happy Spring! 🙂

Thank you for reading. 🙂

https://bosphorusreview.com/the-second-time-sebnem

Image: Paul Delvaux (23 September 1897 – 20 July 1994) Winter Evening

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Mummy’s Torchlight

29 Saturday Jul 2017

Posted by SebnemSanders in Short Story, Uncategorized

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

adoptipn, art, blood, child, comfort, desolation, family, father, loss, love, mother, music, omp, OneMillionProject, redemption, revenge, sadness, safety, Short Story, thriller, ThrillerAnthology, torchlight

 

Mummy's Torchlight IX

Cover by David J. Meyers

 

 

Here’s the link and the blurb to a short story I posted on Wattpad and submitted to OMP, One Million Project, for their Thriller Anthology.  (2,700 words) 

 

Toby waited for Mummy, but she never came back. Uncle Jim and Aunt Doris told him she was in Heaven. Why did Mummy go there without him? Why couldn’t he go to see her?
He kept Mummy’s torchlight safe, to guide him through the darkness, knowing she’d watch over him.

 

Mummy’s Torchlight

 

https://www.wattpad.com/447960743-mummy%27s-torchlight

 

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Dilemma

17 Friday Jun 2016

Posted by SebnemSanders in Flash Fiction, Uncategorized

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

action, dilemma, dreams, duality, father, hope, limbo, wisdom

Photo by Carrie Anthony on Behance

 

Photo by Carrie Anthony on Behance

 

In remembrance of my father, and all the fathers on Earth and in Heaven, on Father’s Day and always …

 

While loading the supermarket bags into the car, my father’s words echo in my mind. “Be sensible,” he used to say to me in my childhood. I never understood why he said that as I wasn’t being naughty. I thought he meant “be a good girl.” Now when I think about it, maybe he meant “be wise,” rather than docile.

 

He has been on my mind, lately. Perhaps the reason why his words come back from the past is because in my recent actions wisdom has escaped me. What is wisdom? I guess it’s seeing beyond what seems to be. Filling in the blanks and perceiving the different shades rather than just the opposites. Despair makes one blind to the hues and the truth always lies in the nuances instead of the obvious.

 

So, I know he wants me to use my wisdom to get out of this blind state of duality in worldly matters. Think big, imagine and dispense with the shadows of fear and doubt. Be bold, have faith in your course and carry on, without looking back. If only …

 

The weather forecast was for a bright day. The sun did shine until around noon, then became overcast with dark clouds. A gloomy sight despite the warm atmosphere. Just like life. So many promises made, yet something happens and things become dismal when they’re not kept. Still, it’s also possible to be sad on a sunny day, and blissful on rainy and stormy day. So I have to find a way of managing my equilibrium on this overcast day of my life. I can only hope and manifest my dream in my mind. Maybe that’s a step closer to wisdom than becoming a slave of the attachments that are paralyzing my moves.

 

Let go and move on. Release yourself and breathe.

 

I go home, carry the bags to the kitchen, and sit in front of the computer. I have a number to call to make the first move. For some reason the number doesn’t connect me with the person I need to speak. I persist and find a contact, who knows this other contact, and finally I receive the e-mail address and the valid phone number in the middle of the night. If I send out that e-mail, things will start rolling. I go back to sleep, composing the message in my head.

 

I awake with these thoughts. I make coffee, play a couple of games of Solitaire while my mind clears up. I write the message and hit send. Step One taken. Tomorrow or sometime this week, Step Two or Plan B.

 

I have another cup of coffee and play three more games of Solitaire. I’m winning. At least I have done something, something that might release me from the current state of uncertainty and limbo. It may be a temporary solution, but a solution rather than a constant dilemma, eating me away like cancer.

 

“I know, I know,” I say to Ego. “Shut up. I need to live.”

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