[#RainbowCreationClub] Red Dragonflies and Mother's Memories

Niji Clip-san I am participating in the theme "Red Dragonfly" with a short story!!

This is a work of fiction inspired by the image.

Thank you for your support.

Red Dragonflies and Mother's Memories

The autumn sunlight warmed the veranda.

Mother was gazing at the garden with her usual vacant eyes.

"Mother, you must be tired."

Even when Shunsuke, who had just returned from work, spoke to her, her gaze did not move.

For the past three days, Mother had been unable to recognize Shunsuke as her son.

"Who might you be?"

She had said the same thing yesterday.

It would surely be the same today.

Shunsuke sat down next to his mother with a feeling akin to resignation.

Fifty-eight years old. Even though she was still so young.

Mother's hands had become thin, and her cheeks had completely sunken in.

But to Shunsuke, Mother would always be Mother.

She was the kind, warm mother who had always watched over him.

The wind swayed the plants in the garden, and a red dragonfly flew in from somewhere.

It fluttered through the air, flying slowly as if to rest its wings in front of Mother.

Mother's expression suddenly softened.

"Oh, a red dragonfly."

At my mother's voice, emotion returned to me for the first time in a while.

"It's beautiful. He loved red dragonflies, you know."

A faint light flickered in my mother's eyes.

Shunsuke's heart began to race.

"Who is 'he'?"

"My son," my mother smiled faintly.

"When he was still small, he used to chase red dragonflies around the garden."

"He would show them to me so happily, saying, 'Mom, I caught a red dragonfly!'"

Shunsuke's chest grew warm.

I remember.

The joy of the end of summer when I was six, chasing red dragonflies desperately in the garden and finally catching one.

My mother's surprised face and her gentle smile.

"But he would always let them go right away," my mother continued, gazing at the red dragonfly.

"He would say, 'Because it wants to go back to its mother, right?'"

That was true.

Shunsuke could never keep the insects he caught in a cage.

He always let them go back to their mothers.

"He was such a kind child."

A single tear ran down my mother's cheek.

"Where is that child now?" Shunsuke asked in a trembling voice.

Mother thought for a moment, then shook her head.

"I don't know. I wonder where he is. He should be grown up by now."

Then Mother looked up at Shunsuke.

For a moment, she wore an expression as if she were about to remember something, but soon her face turned troubled.

"Excuse me, who are you again?"

Tears spilled from Shunsuke's eyes.

But these tears were not just from sadness.

Mother had forgotten her son.

But she had not forgotten her love for her son.

The memory of her kind son still glows warmly deep within her heart.

A red dragonfly took flight again, shining in the sunset as it vanished into the sky.

"Thank you."

Shunsuke whispered softly.

To the red dragonfly.

And to his mother, who still continues to love her son somewhere in her heart.

Tomorrow, Mother will likely have forgotten Shunsuke again.

But Shunsuke knows. Love lies deeper than memory.

And that love will never be lost.

The autumn breeze brushed against his cheek.

---End---