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TheMackening
Jun 19, 2023
In with Ambedo: A Moment You Experience For Its Own Sake

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=osrvO9Q3PtI

Edit to add: In for :toxx: for my failure in week 590.

TheMackening fucked around with this message at 22:23 on Jan 4, 2024

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TheMackening
Jun 19, 2023
Ambedo – A Moment You Experience For Its Own Sake.
A kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details-raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=osrvO9Q3PtI

Family Tradition
Words: 508

It’s amazing how much you can hear on quiet nights. The movement of air through the trees outside. The crackling of wood and flame in the fireplace. The soft sound of birds who’ve decided that these woods are far enough south for the winter, despite the cold.

Sitting on the makeshift pile of pillows and blankets on the floor by the fireplace, she drank it all in. She inhaled the lovely smell of woodsmoke and old books and tea. The mutt at her side sighed deeply in his sleep and wriggled closer for comfort. She gave him a few rubs on his chest, feeling the texture of his fur against her fingertips.

In the bedroom beyond, she heard her little brother dreamily mumble to himself as he found a new sleeping position. The soft but almost grating sound of a spoon stirring in a mug from the kitchen and the three sharp tap-tap-taps as her mother finished and clinked the spoon into the sink.

She loved the time her family spent here at the end of the holidays each year. A lovely family tradition of just being together, out and away from the city and technology and all the noise that comes with it.

It would be beautiful if it wasn’t so sad. Any other night in this cabin, there would be music and conversation to chorus the other night sounds. The shuffling of cards or laughter from the dining room table. The deepening snow outside put a hush on everything and her father’s absence made the softness of it all feel hollow.

Without him, there was no music or laughter here. Those were all his doing. He always pushed the family to play a game or listen to music while they chatted into the night. So many nights they spent at that table around a board game or cards, puns flying between her and her father amid conversation. Bittersweet, that thought brought another to mind; one of her dad’s favorite jokes. “What’s the different between a hippo and a Zippo?” Mom would always roll her eyes. They had all heard it a million times. “One’s heavy, the other’s a little lighter,” he’d grin every time.

The sound of pages turning pulled her attention away from the memory. Her mother was reading on the couch. She felt the soft whisper of the fuzzy fabric in her blanket nest as she snuggled in more beside the family dog. She couldn’t keep her mind on the story she was reading, try as she might. Not with the taste of tea on her tongue and the smell of the flowery candle burning on the coffee table.

She felt goosebumps on her arms as a draft came through the curtains. She tried not to think about this being the first time they’d been here without him. The dog snuggled closer again. She closed the book, giving up on it for now. The crackling of the fire drew her in, and she lost all thought staring into the depths of the dancing flames.

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