50 Word Non-Fiction: Hope – Batch 8

Every week, we publish the latest 50 Word Non-Fiction(this link will open in a new window) stories of Hope. Read this week's pieces below!

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We all rely on hope at sometime in our lifetime to try make something of which you cannot control feel nicer and consoling. No matter if it works or not, having hope instead of negativity is always better. Hope is a reliable substance, if it works, you thank hope. Whereas if hope does not work out, you don't blame it either.

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Hope is a wonderous thing. It pulls you through tough times, it holds you up when you hare feeling down, and most importantly, it helps you to keep going. Even when you think all is lost, hope will always be there, when others aren’t. Hope will stay with you forever.

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Swaying, the only feeling I had felt for 11 days, swaying. The fishing boat reeked of oil and everyone’s hope was gone. I lay on my bed in seasickness trying to stay awake. 'We’re here!' a voice echoed down the hall. I sprung up to the deck and saw home.

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I join the queue of punters snaking along Hope Street, their anxious eyes peeping over masks. Present the open sesame app. Shiver with anticipation when the auditorium darkens and the orchestra strikes up. Release salty tears of joy, escaping reality in a much-loved musical. Theatre. My happy place. Finally restored.

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Queuing to pay for coffee, the white-haired lady in front smiled and slipped a voucher onto my tray for a free hot drink. I had woken up feeling so lonely. Perhaps she had too, but her kindness made us both feel noticed and our day a little more hopeful.

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I once hated my face, felt it ugly, unlovable. Until I saw my dad in my hair, his youthful shade of sunshine gold. And my mother in my eyes, the same gentle hues of blue. And my granny in my smile, her laugh an infectious joy. What a beautiful face.

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With the collection of 33 semi-precious beads from a broken necklace and a £1 solitaire wooden board, I am, without any particular method, attempting to reduce them down to one bead. With the variety of colours I get to make up the rules.

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Gill slid her finger into the silky ringlet, golden highlights enveloping her delicate touch. 'I doubted it’d grow back. It often doesn’t after losing it like… ' 'Mum. You birthed a daughter tenacious in many respects.'

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Hope is the light I now see, once clouded from me. I hope that, as I escape the darkness and my demons this time, it is for the last time. And that there will even come a time when I fail to recall the darkness and its name at all.

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A simple pot of tea means so much more than that to me. I long to hold that steaming mug and share stories like we always used to. You stopped visiting me in my dreams, but I hope you’re watching me proudly. I still feel our loving bond so strongly.

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