My memory of my father was full of ephemera: mental snapshots of his face, pages of promises kept and broken, all posted against the pillar of my mother’s refusal to speak of him.

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Image courtesy of Trifecta

This post is part of the Jade Dragon series. It follows A History of Silence, and was written in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge Trifextra weekend prompt:

Here are some photos to inspire you. Choose one  [I chose the one at the left – ch] and give us a metaphor or simile to help describe what you see.  Make your analogy 33 words or less, and make it clever or witty or unusual enough to grab our attention.

In case you have been following the Jade Dragon series through Trifecta, you may have missed the post before A History of Silence: Harp Strings. I’d much appreciate it if you gave it a look-see.

ETA: I fixed my punctuation/grammar issue, by the way, so if you were stopping by to help me out, I think I’m good. Unless, of course, it still has issues!

6 thoughts on “Ephemera

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