Your Story in my Blog by Gudrun

We found a quiet spot in the park, relatively quiet that is. Dunya festival in Rotterdam Central Park! Thousands of people of all nations were having a good time, music came from everywhere. Today Rotterdam is a village, everywhere one sees colleagues, known faces, even my ex comes along with our daughter.

A pen knife lay in the grass, a thick shiny thing with scissors, a screwdriver, a little saw and file. Oliver took it. ‘You always finds things’ i remarked and the penknife became the possession of my daughter. ‘We should take it to the police,’ she muttered but was glad despite her tweaking conscience. My ex moved on with the kid and we lay down again, remarking on the music and the beauty of the day.

There is a man in front of me, brushing through the grass with his feet. A woman comes up and explains about a lost penknife, – right here. Oliver and i remain silent. Now what? Suddenly the sun is too hot, the ground too hard, we move up a few meters into the shade and watch. We see all these people relaxed and happy, except the two of them, distressed searching the grass. They search for a long time, we remain silent.

That is how i added anger and frustration to a perfectly peaceful day. Now what? Let it go? Can’t! Remember how shame feels? The churning hotness of it. One tells oneself again and again ‘it’s too late to do something’ but never gets convinced.

Tuesday morning: time to get the kid to school. She is crying, i lost my favorite little elephant’. i hug her and the image of shuffling feet and grim faces is on my mind.

Based on “Would anyone know the difference” by Paulo Coelho

Please send your stories (250 words max.) for selection to [email protected].