I recently noticed this daily posts writing prompt thing, although the comments are now closed I thought I still wanted to begin.
( Am I the only one who gets ideas from reading definitions?)
It is about 40 minutes to 1 Am and sometimes, even when I try not to I still fear.
That with all the years that pass by and all the work that my parents may have put in. What if we do not flourish?
I watch them grow old and wither. Their environments are not places where any flower would grow. They toil and labor while both being half a century old. What if I had chosen to pursue the career of a Doctor or Lawyer or Engineer? Would we have prospered or be close to it by now?
Sometimes I fear that I flourish but then it’s too late. What good would it do if I was not able to give them anything during their long lives? How would I feel never seeing the look of pride and peace on their faces as I , their daughter , thrives?
Hope is so fragile. Sometimes I fear that one day,I might find it absent from their eyes.