a story starter (a prompt using Christina's World by Andrew Wyeth)
They Can't Take it All "Lydia!" I called, "You can’t!" What was I to do? She was in as much anguish as I was. There was nothing we could do to stop the intrusion on our hope this time. I needed to go to her but my legs were listening to the vines of terror. They wouldn’t- couldn’t hear me. The roots of altered reality had already penetrated my brain’s response. We were both watching in horror as the soldiers entered the house and we heard the muffled cries. Cries I would never be able to erase from the tucked corners of my existence. The portals that registered to our brains could only take in the impulses sent to us thru the hazy sunlight. Our eyes are only simply able to take in chemical signals. They never really comprehend what is the necessary steps of all that is to come. It is the brain’s position to embrace, anticipate and calculate. The eyes are merely messengers of this catastrophic injustice. Oblivious, neutral as the dry, carpet of my ch...