#68 Suncatcher

by Jenny Piercy

The sun catcher made a kaleidoscope of colours on the white coverlet. The old woman looked at them and smiled; it gave her such wonderful memories of her old home. The front door and side windows were made of abstract pieces of coloured glass, which bathed the floor in a myriad of colours. The first time she saw them she twirled around watching the changing patterns on her body.

Her children had loved playing in the huge hall, even trying to colour in the patterns, “to keep them forever.” She remembered her daughter on her wedding day, her dress looking as if it was already covered in confetti. Then there was the dull, dreadful day when muted colours had covered her husband’s coffin. Sitting in her wheelchair on her last day in the house, tears streaming down her face, she said goodbye to what seemed like an old friend.

The new owners of the house seemed impossibly young.

“Those coloured windows will be the first things to go.” said the man.

She had loved them from the first visit, when the old woman showed her round.

“Okay, but take them out carefully, I have plans for them.”

The woman was an artist and she fused them into a series of fantastical sculptures. She did, however, save two pieces. One became a sculpture in her garden, which sent patterns cascading onto the patio.

The other piece she immediately made into a sun catcher and sent it to the old woman.

1 comment:

Sam Knight said...

I liked how you gave us the woman's pain of giving up something she loved to someone who would destroy it. Your visuals were wonderful.