This post is in response to the Incredible Blogger Marathon Challenge hosted by Its PH, a challenge that I believe all you bloggers out there must try your hand at. Give it a go, guys! 

This is the sixth of ten challenges.

search of skin,
color no matter,
brighter or darker,
tell no one,
I will take someone,
–  ghost, me!


His daughter was a pleasant child of eight. One of her curious habits included picking up some random sets of words and stitching together poems that made little sense

But perhaps that was a sentiment felt by him alone, for his wife applauded their daughter’s efforts to make sense of life in her own way.

His daughter seemed to enjoy herself thoroughly, for the words were often those she had learned lately and she took pride in her abilities to recollect them in songs.

Right now however she was particularly interested in the part “Ssssshhhhh!” and simply ran through the rest of the words, muddling them up in the process.

The man enjoyed his daughter’s rapid sing-songing, the drawn out sound, the cyclical repetition.

His mother would have been proud.

She often told him that he had to stop and smell the roses more often. He had no paid her much heed, for he took after his father in his skill and sentiments. He had an abundance of the former, and that often made him forget the latter.

His wife interrupted his chain of thought.

“There’s someone on the telephone, my love. They asked if you could speak to them now.”

He noticed the fine lines on her face, the tired look in her eyes. She must have had a long day.

“Tell them I’m occupied.”

She raised her eyebrows. That was not typical – her husband would make himself available to anyone who wished to speak to him. That was how he was.

“And once you tell them that, come back to me Elia.”

She was thoroughly confused – he could see it on her face. But she wasn’t unhappy about it. She had expressive eyes and presently they shone.

He would make her sit beside him and tell him about her day. How long had it been since he did that?

He gave a contented sigh and glanced out the window. The sunset painted beautiful colors on the glassy surface of the lake. He got up and stepped closer, breathing in the air, feeling the wind on his face.


He closed his eyes, storing this moment in memory.

The moment he decided to quit calculating and start noticing.




7 thoughts on “# 6. Forging connections

    1. Thanks, you’re really kind. 🙂
      As for this one, you know you get that little spark from your instincts at times? Just.. hold on to that and fire away! I know you’ll come up with something brilliant. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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