The Melliflous Memoir of Millie Merryfield

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
A someone tells of her love...that of creative art met in her lifetime.

Submitted: March 14, 2019

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Submitted: March 14, 2019

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I was born an obvious impression, my quiet beginning a source of a tempest in a tea pot. Apparently coming into the world with a distinctly feminine nature when a male signature was highly anticipated and wished for can bring forth a hail of unhappy emotion filled outbursts; those which come from within certain individuals called parents.

I was informed of these fabulously tumultuous tantrums by the eldest of my nine sisters when I was old enough not to give a flying figs favorite pig about our fathers loss. All of it caused by his final hurrah, that in-futile attempt to bring forth the masculine fruit of his loins.

Despite the fact of being just another she, I would become the genius of a world of my own making. Running before I could walk, walking years before I spoke my first word, which by more than happenstance happened to be cat, having a quite clear memory of that. At currant time my home is soft and furry with five of them. For I knew early on they would become the finest of company.

That is of now of course. Back then I met my stride at the age of ten, the year when my creative heart began to bring forth wonder filled spaces.

While sitting in class during dull, dreary math, gazing past the chalk powdered board, I'd dream in the daylight. The pictures appearing in my mind consisting of odd and lovely places, people, creatures and things. The architecture of its design all around me was of perfect and captivating artistry.

In my finest moments, I was there among it all. A princess so sensitive and genteel that the petitest of peas was a terrible problem. At other times I was the fair maid, humble yet strong, the only one the prince of the palace would dote upon. He'd beg for my hand constantly, saying he'd give up his throne to make me his queen. As I dusted and swept along, he'd propose once again while kneeling down on bended knee. Of course I'd always refuse, for the true beauty which was the strength of a chambers maid was me.

Leaving childhood, that village wanted of perpetual fun and play, had me finding myself in the tenuous township of coming of age. That dodgy time of teetering on the brink, the adulthood looming large and towering before you. A skyscraper scenario bringing vertigo whenever one would dare to look up, bringing thoughts of failing and falling, continually pricking and plaguing ones forever open mind.

But there was simply nothing for it, for all must go forward.

At a later date, feeling sentient enough, I adopted my first family at twenty-nine. A sooty black beauty I named Miss Tupsy; her four pawed friendship and loyalty was greatly appreciated, and in time more would follow in her steps as I realized that the best lives are lived and counted by the nine of cats.

Needless to say, as my life went on its way, my daytime dreams did continue. When allowed I'd imagine my favorite of them all, it involving a silver castle in the clouds surrounded by gentle rolling hills filled with the greenest of grass, lavender and violets.

Sitting by fires side, family resting at my feet, my reflection of the past is fair and complete. Ninety years plus of dreaming behind me, leaving a memoir of life's creative possibilities.

Smiling mostly, I wonder now of ghosts and invisible realms, those which are most welcome. One day, not far away, I'll close my eyes to enter gladly whatever lies beyond.


© Copyright 2019 LE. Berry. All rights reserved.

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