Susan Hoffman

100 Words

The challenge of writing exactly 100 words every day seems pretty easy, but it’s actually harder than one would think. 100 words are very few to express something meaningful, to tell a story, to communicate either the complex or the mundane in this limited way, and still make it relevant. The examples provided here were diligently composed each day, without prompts of any kind other than what my brain was occupied with at the moment. Some are related to the events of a particular day, others are random musings. I hope they provide some food for thought.

Old Friend

I hadn’t seen my best-friend-wannabe in years and then one August afternoon she was walking toward me on Queen Street. Was it really her? The brilliant sunshine was unkind to her. As she approached I noticed the mutations that time has wrought. An exhausted face with rings around eyes that have lost their luster. Her throat has thickened as has the rest of her. Her physique is a collection of body parts that don’t fit together. Short legs, long arms, small flat buttocks below wide hips. My stomach knots as she gets closer. Will she stop? Who will she see?

Hello 2023!

How is it that as the clock winds down, the years remaining seem to speed up and the prospects for completing bucket-lists become slimmer? Not that I’m a bucket-list person. I’m more of a see-what’s-around-the-corner-and-take-advantage-of-whatever-it-is type. There is no prospect of globe-trotting, horseback riding, sailing or romance around the corner. Instead there is space and time for writing, painting, and learning. As for thrills, there is still driving fast. Speeding around corners is no longer in anticipation of adventure, but for the enjoyment of how well I can hug them. And still, you never know what curves lie in wait.

December

December arrives with the gloomy warning: hunker down, it will be a long cold one! Some people escape to warmer climates, but even if I sprouted snowbird wings I wouldn’t leave. Would then returning from climates that nurture stunning tropical flowers, not demean our paltry pansies? How could I then rejoice in the emergence of cheerful hyacinths? What joy would our shy little forget-me-nots bring? How would I revel in those chartreuse halos, the promise of leaves that April bestows on trees? How would I appreciate the lavish colours of tulips in May and celebrate the blossoming of cherry trees?

November

November, the beginning of the end. It comes faster and faster each year and this year I welcome it with anticipation. As far as years go this one, 2022 has been a roller coaster. I am permanently nauseous from the ride. The shifting of societal norms brought on by a pandemic and perpetuated by scary political moves to the right, has me reeling. I want it to end. Come December. Hurry January, bring on a new shift to set us on an even keel again. Bring cooperation between nations and people one to one. Let 2023 be the beginning again.