All the Haunted Mays: Prosery

Winslow Homer, On the Hill

All the Haunted Mays

I’m coming.

Despite my brave words, I don’t feel like a hawk. I’m a hummingbird flying backwards into the past. Remember that one perfect May Day when we forgot the war, the occupation, and our unending nightmare world? We shared a baguette that was almost edible and a semi-drinkable bottle of wine, as we pretended the safe house was ours. I wasn’t Nighthawk then either. We were simply Julia and Paul in love–or so I wanted to believe.

I can’t change the past, but I must discover the truth to live in the present. I will find you. I must find you and talk to you face-to-face. For how can I be sure? I shall see again the world on the first of May, or I’ll perish in the attempt. I refuse to be haunted by ghosts any longer. I choose the living.

This is another installment of my non-linear spy tale. Here is a link to the previous one. I’m hosting Prosery on dVerse today. The prompt line to be included within a prose piece is

“For how can I be sure
I shall see again
The world on the first of May”
From “May Day” by Sara Teasdale

64 thoughts on “All the Haunted Mays: Prosery

    • Thank you so much, Ain. I’m so pleased it made you think of a film, and a Truffaut film at that! I haven’t seen Jules and Jim in decades and don’t really remember it. Thank you for the kind words.

  1. It occurs to me that in each of these fragments, you explore the same theme, of love and loss, and each time you deepen it. It’s enough in itself, no need for a ‘plot’.

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