Body of Truth –158 words
These bones aren’t what they used to be.
I used to long for them to melt, to lighten, to give me the physique of a dancer, rather than the water buffalo to which my classmates likened me.
I used to wish they would disintegrate, disappear, rendering me invisible, hiding me from the anxiety of adulthood and making it on my own.
I used to pray, when the kids were young and the needs were high, that I could jettison this body somewhere else, anywhere else, so that I could just be me again.
Yet these bones have traveled continents. This body has loved and been loved, water buffalo or not. This flesh has covered me in times of sorrow and times of joy.
I am my own parachute now. I am my own safety net. I know myself, bone-deep.
These bones aren’t what they used to be. They are stronger. Wiser. Better.
And for that I give thanks.
This week we had to include something about aging in addition to the photo prompt. Let me know what you think of my take! And of course I hope you’ll head over to Flash Friday to read and comment on the entries, and perhaps write your own story about this parachutist!