Monday, October 10, 2022


   She was reading about him. They had labelled him egotist. So wrapped up in himself they said. He didn't stand a chance. They all lambasted him. All of them.
   Were there mirrors about in that time. Did they have  to coin a metaphor naming his plight? Was it not the first time he had seen this fair face? The face of his beloved? The face that spurned him so, to pine for love until he withered and died right there by the lake?
   Are we on reflection being fair to Narcissus?  Did he know that the face in the water was his? Wasn't there the underlying factor of rejection and curse?
   She read on questioning the norm. And all she would conclude after contemplation was, how romantic! 
   Are we now to conclude that to her death is quite romantic?
THERE BY THE LAKE © gillena cox 2016

Welcome to Monday WRites # 366
A happy OCTOBER to all
You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧well this is  Monday WRites  (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance for eg the rite of afternoon tea). 

versesCopy this code, pin my button to your blog


Prosery – Bob Dylan 
challenged to use the line "To her, death is quite romantic" in a piece of prose not more than 144 words