Writing Prompt #3 What’s happening in this picture?

It had been years since he’d seen her. Would he even recognize her? The last time he saw her was at his sister’s wedding. He couldn’t believe she had the audacity to show up. She was at least amicable then. Nevertheless, after what she had done, it was difficult just being in her presence. They say time heals, but after all those years, it was still fresh in his mind. He remembered the call from the police in the middle of the night, the ensuing courtroom battles, and that verdict. How could a jury have found her innocent?

But this was a time for forgiveness. If he was going to be whole, he knew he had to forgive her. Forget about her reasons. No more blaming. The resentment has been too heavy a load to carry; he was determined to let it go.


Five A.M. at the train stop. Most of Paris was still asleep. Jean Paul was committed to cleaning this mess up once and for all. In just three short hours he would be in Marseille. Then a short taxi ride to her home.

He needed to prepare his thoughts. How was he going to say this without condoning what she had done? How would she react? What does it take to really forgive someone and to be done with blaming? He would be straight with her. “Josette, I’m not condoning what you did. I think it was horrific.” Yes, he had to say that first. “But I know you have suffered for what you have done. It’s not my responsibility to punish you further.” It really wasn’t his responsibility. She lost nearly everything. “I’m here to tell you that I forgive you.” Jean Paul swallowed hard. “You are my sister and I can no longer hold on to my anger and resentment.” Just thinking the words he began to feel the freedom that was to come. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “And I’m hoping that you will forgive me for not standing by you. It was a difficult time. I was confused, I thought I knew you.” He had to be honest about his feelings. He knew they were his guide. “I want to rebuild our relationship; to have it be like it was when we used to play in the canals when we were kids.” He breathed deep. Then a whistle came. His train had arrived. His journey to peace had begun.