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Picture It & Write: Golden Times

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My Contribution for this week’s Picture It & Write, click here to see, is below. Hope you enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome as always.

 

 

 

 

 

They were the good old days, memories from that time are lathered in gold because they are my golden memories from a golden age. Back then when time was irrelevant, we felt like we had all the time in the world to share our special bond. Time didn’t matter to us hence why it spilled between our fingers and represented itself in occasional grey hairs which spouted amongst our normal young dark hair. We pretended it didn’t exist, we shoved it into the back of the closet and left it there, a ghost which sat and waited until the right time to come out and torment us.

By the time we realised it was real and it was there, we were too late, we’d let in stalk us in silence like a lion waiting to pounce. Time had separated us, it had torn the fake immortal chain which linked us, which we thought had been unbreakable. The chain had been broken and used to hold a pendant watch, a reminder he’d given to me before he’d left, that time was there and it was impossible to stop. He’d placed time in a cache of gold, to remind me of the golden days and that time was alway there, always watching your every move and counting down your final moments.

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The Cache

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At the far end of the overgrown garden, in a well secluded hiding place, is a mound of rocks and corrugated iron. The garden spills weeds and vines  over the fence and crawls up and around the house. The owner of the derelict house, neglected it long ago, leaving behind a secret and sinister past. For at the end of the overgrown garden, the mound of rocks and corrugated iron is a burial ground. Bones, stained yellow with age, lie in the depth of the jumble of rocks and iron. They wait, like buried treasure, until one day, when the unsuspecting founders finds them; the cache of bones.

Sphrbn