The Nice Thing About Strangers
Creative Non-Fiction Short Stories. :) Travel, Oldsters, Love, and Compassion.
Seaside Sobbing
At the park, the family waits for their turn on a swing. The huge contraption has two benches that face each other so the family can all sit together–knees to knees –and sway back and forth. Mom and daughter take the side facing the sea. Dad holds the toddler son. The son gapes from under a blue hat, horrified by the structure now caging his mother, and not in the mood to join her.
Dad climbs up anyway as the child screams and cries. Dad tucks the squirming boy in one arm and takes a picture of his wife and daughter with the other. Then he passes their camera. The child sobs on, facing his mother as she mops up his tears, but the father seems to think his son is only warming up to it the experience. Dad wants pictures with the coast in the background. The mother seems to object, but yields since her husband is laughing, saying “eeee, eeee,” delighted to be with his family on such a lovely evening. So she snaps photos of her sobbing son and his beaming father, with the sea shining behind them, so they can always remember their holidays.
–Kuşadası, Turkey.
The Family Departs
The Nice Thing About Strangers 
Hello, I have just nominated your blog for the Very Inspiring Blogger Award:
I would be honoured if you accepted the nomination!
Thanks so much for the nomination! I have enjoyed your blog and photos–and I like anyone who quotes Keats. 🙂
I am amazed by your creativity and energy that comes out in your blog. Glad that we are sharing the blogging journey. Especially since you share my love of Keats.
Happy days… ?? Tough love, certainly. ;-/
I think since the baby was pointed at Mama, Dad just revealed his likely undying optimism. 🙂 Thanks for reading the story!
Reblogged this on CIVILIZATION OF TURKISCHLANDS.
poor little guy 🙂
Reblogged this on An Upturned Soul and commented:
An absolutely beautiful post! A thoughtful observation of a slice of life… one which I think we can all relate to, I know I certainly do.
This captured moment. A moment lived in the here and now (which is now a there and then), a moment to be lived over and over again thanks to our ability to take photographs of our memories, and our human need to hang onto the past and remind ourselves of it.
Do we capture moments because they’re the only way we can prove that happiness exists and is not just a fleeting figment of fantasy…
But what if one person’s captured moment of happiness is a captured moment of distress for another?
Such is life. Random chaos disguised as order… little rows of photographs in a photo album. Smiling faces… but are those smiles real or just cheese for the camera, for those who will see this moment, those who have lived it and those who have not.
Another gem from a blog full of gems amassed into a treasure chest.
Thank you for sharing!