White Space by Kidd Wadsworth

September 18, 2019 by in category Infused with Meaning by Kidd Wadsworth tagged as , with 6 and 0
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Death is the absence
of life. It is the white space on a painting, an empty hospital bed, a silent
room, a closet of clothes. Death is the extinction of a species of only one. I
closed my eyes. I woke, and he was gone. They took his body in the night. They
came for the bed and the wheelchair by noon. We reduced his life to a photo and
two columns in the newspaper. We sang his favorite songs. We spoke, “he was
good friend, a wonderful father and an average golfer.”

Emotion is the currency of all good writers. But what if there is no emotion? What if death brings not regret, or anger, or longing, or even peace, but rather echoes? Did he call my name? I turned my head. Was that him, walking into his office?

Where is the salty taste of my tears? I become white space.

Can someone please
tell me how to feel?

Author Bio
Author Bio
Kidd writes to bring to life our magical, fire-breathing world. She believes we are super heroes. Its time we put on our capes.
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Kidd writes to bring to life our magical, fire-breathing world. She believes we are super heroes. Its time we put on our capes.
  • Veronica Jorge says:

    Powerful and beautifully written. And I think most of us have been there.

  • Dianna Sinovic says:

    Yes, death brings absence – that space where once there was something, someone. Your tribute is lovely and moving.

  • DT Krippene says:

    The hollow emptiness one feels after losing a parent, is as individual as a fingerprint. When I lost my parents, each bore a different melancholy. Thank you sharing this.

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