16 Comments
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Aurelian Ashmore's avatar

“Bats flitted back and forth between the shadows and the light in the sky. The moon lit our way through the crowding rhododendrons…”

This feels like a memory. Fantastic work.

Jane Dougherty's avatar

Thank you. Sometimes stories feel like memories. They are, I suppose. Somebody’s memories.

Liz Gauffreau's avatar

What an incredibly moving story--and so beautifully written!

Jane Dougherty's avatar

Thank you, Liz. We often forget that the carnage of the Great War meant tragedy for the women left behind too. So many husband and sweethearts lost.

Liz Gauffreau's avatar

You're welcome, Jane. Thank you for speaking on behalf of the women who had to grieve when a husband or a sweetheart was killed.

Jane Dougherty's avatar

The ‘maiden aunt’, the ‘old spinster’ were figures of fun or pity, as if they had chosen to live without a husband and children. So sad.

Laura Teodorescu's avatar

"They told me I should be ashamed, that the menfolk were dying in their thousands to protect us, and I had no business crying" - a person's trauma doesn't negate another's. Beautifully expressed in your story.

Jane Dougherty's avatar

Thank you. We do put everything into a hierarchy, don’t we? Crimes, discriminations, wars, anti-social behaviour, grief. So we can ignore the ones at the bottom of the pile.

Laura Teodorescu's avatar

It's easier to only focus on a few issues, rather than a lot. So disregarding most as not important enough makes it easier to cope. But we should instead focus on fewer issues, closer to us: be they large or small

Jane Dougherty's avatar

Yes, even only one cause, if we get results/

DRNaturegirl's avatar

Very atmospheric, Jane. I was there!

Jane Dougherty's avatar

Old bandstand are full of memories. I’m glad you felt them.

Joan Spilman's avatar

Beautifully written.

Jane Dougherty's avatar

Thank you xx

The Sawyer's Daughter's avatar

I like this. And I enjoy your writing!