I want to go home.
I do not know where I am. I do not know why I am here. There is a young
woman crying next to me. She looks like one of my granddaughters, but she is
too old. In the corner, there is a figure in the shadows. There are photos on the
dresser. "Gramma?" the woman asks, seeing me awake. I smile, remembering
her. "Margo? Is it time for lunch?" I have to get to my table if it's time for lunch.
* * *
I am facing a magic glass. I do not see my face in it. I see an old woman with
harsh, cottony hair. A lady stands behind my left shoulder and I ask her if the
mirror shows the future. She asks why and I tell her that in the mirror I look
like I am ninety. She laughs and pats my hands and says that she's going to wash
and set my hair. She says that she wants me to be good today. I touch my hair
and feel that it is harsh and I ask her why my hair is so messed up. She says it's
because I haven't been good recently and she had to stop doing my hair. I look
down and see that I am belted to the chair. She says it's so I don't fall. She says
that I keep falling and the seat belt is to protect me. I don't remember falling, I
say. She smiles and rubs my shoulder. I scream and the woman in the glass's
face contorts.
* * *
A man tries to give me a handful of colorful pills. I don't know who he is. I ask
him who he is and he says Jacob. I don't know any Jacob and I don't know these
pills. I refuse. I want to go home. He says that this is my home now. I say that it
is not. My home has white and blue hydrangeas that engulf the side of the house
and a raspberry garden in the back. My home smells like bread and cinnamon.
He says, "You can't go back there. Your son sold the house last year,
remember?" I cry. My son betrayed me. "Is it time for lunch?" I ask. I have to
go to the bathroom...
I do not know where I am. I do not know why I am here. There is a young
woman crying next to me. She looks like one of my granddaughters, but she is
too old. In the corner, there is a figure in the shadows. There are photos on the
dresser. "Gramma?" the woman asks, seeing me awake. I smile, remembering
her. "Margo? Is it time for lunch?" I have to get to my table if it's time for lunch.
* * *
I am facing a magic glass. I do not see my face in it. I see an old woman with
harsh, cottony hair. A lady stands behind my left shoulder and I ask her if the
mirror shows the future. She asks why and I tell her that in the mirror I look
like I am ninety. She laughs and pats my hands and says that she's going to wash
and set my hair. She says that she wants me to be good today. I touch my hair
and feel that it is harsh and I ask her why my hair is so messed up. She says it's
because I haven't been good recently and she had to stop doing my hair. I look
down and see that I am belted to the chair. She says it's so I don't fall. She says
that I keep falling and the seat belt is to protect me. I don't remember falling, I
say. She smiles and rubs my shoulder. I scream and the woman in the glass's
face contorts.
* * *
A man tries to give me a handful of colorful pills. I don't know who he is. I ask
him who he is and he says Jacob. I don't know any Jacob and I don't know these
pills. I refuse. I want to go home. He says that this is my home now. I say that it
is not. My home has white and blue hydrangeas that engulf the side of the house
and a raspberry garden in the back. My home smells like bread and cinnamon.
He says, "You can't go back there. Your son sold the house last year,
remember?" I cry. My son betrayed me. "Is it time for lunch?" I ask. I have to
go to the bathroom...
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| Shadows on My Mind By SC Bryce |
Publication History |
Readers' Comments |
| "Wow..." "A wonderful portrait of a deteriorating mind..." "You have created a beautifully pathos-inducing and somewhat disturbing insight into the mind of someone who can no longer quite hold on to herself..." "Very poignant... feels real to me..." "A sad and insightful story...." "Reads absolutely true..." "I applaud you..." "Brilliantly done..." "Sensitive..." "Perfect..." "Heartwrenching..." "Gave me a chill..." "Extremely well written, highly effective, moving, and disturbing. There's a great deal of emotional power in this story..." "Great insight, pure of heart, and very believable..." "Emotionally gripping and well written..." "Beautiful..." "Tender and touching..." "The ending made me sob..." "Very well executed..." "Absolutely heartbreaking..." "Warming and hopeful..." "Very clever..." "Spot-on..." "Very touching..." "Made me cry..." "Brings back a lot of bittersweet memories..." "Especially poignant for me because it could have been written by my grandmother..." "Innocently captures the horror and confusion of the woman's situation..." "Truly shows a lot of insight and sensitivity..." "I've never read anything quite this moving..." "Absolutely excellent..." "Very effective..." "Wonderful..." "Really grabbed me..." "Intimate..." "I comment you on this tale..." "So accurate that it was painful..." "I will have a hard time forgetting this one..." "Truly, just beautifully done!" "Very honest, rich in detail, unflinching in its accuracy..." "The beginning drew me in, and I couldn't stop reading..." |
First Printing:
Farrago's Wainscot, Vol 2, Issue 6,
Darin Bradley, ed. (Apr. 2008).
Farrago's Wainscot, Vol 2, Issue 6,
Darin Bradley, ed. (Apr. 2008).
Reviews |
| "'Shadows in My Mind' by S.C Bryce attempts to convey the decaying state of mind of an old woman. Various friends and relatives come to visit Claire, but she frequently has no idea who they are. As readers, we piece together a picture of her life, which Claire herself is increasingly unable to grasp. The gradual reveal of Claire’s situation provides a narrative arc of sorts, but there isn’t much of a story here in any traditional sense. Perhaps it doesn’t matter, and certainly, the writing is effective." Chris Butler, The Fix, on Shadows in My Mind. |
| Impatient? Jump to... |
| ...also on this Page! |