This week our prompt is the opening of Isabel Allende’s 1999 novel Daughter of Fortune
Everyone is born with some special talent
Use all or part of it within your poem or prose and then leave the url of your post with Mister Linky and a comment.
'How did you do that!' she cried. Her voice startled me and I must have given a dazed expression because she immediately said 'I mean, you have an excellent memory.' I smiled and said 'thanks'. It was not the first time I heard that one. I had just quoted a few definitions from the textbook. I continued looking into the microscope, allowing myself to get lost again in a world of pink and blue tissues, a world of pathology. Four of us sat in the pathology reporting room, each with a special talent.
Beginning with the girl who shrieked.... She was a young five feet 4 inches beauty who could dance to any music. And she danced well! Her movements so definite and graceful. She was a passionate dancer. You know one, when you see one! God had created this one to dance, you would agree on this. I have many times wondered why she wasn't in the movie business!
After a few minutes, I looked at the person on my right. A 40 year old student, I knew what his special talent was. He was an artist, a great one. He never accepted this compliment, but I always insisted. His sketches were wonderful, the first time I saw them I was astonished. I told myself 'what's this guy doing in sitting in a four walled pathology laboratory? Shouldn't he be out there painting like Leonardo Da Vinci' Someday I intend to tell him this. I smiled at him before looking back into the microscope.
I wasn't thinking about the small bit of tissue, magnified a thousand times that lay in front of my eyes. I was now thinking about the lady in blue who sat in front of me. A mother of two, a great cook. She was a weaver of words, we would constantly allow ourselves to become her victims in her web of words knowingly and sometimes unknowingly. There was a certain amount of charm in her stride and wisdom in her words.
A few more minutes passed, I stared at the tissue on the glass slide from the outside. So tiny, yet within it are a thousand details and more. A maze! Each bit so special, has a different story to tell.