Hello . . . this is Joe. Welcome to A Daily Drabble. Please add 100 words of prose or poetry as a comment on any date you want and in any order you want. Please reply on the drabbles you like. I'll moderate the comments at night, and they'll appear the next day. This is for everyone!
She missed the willows that used to grow along the banks. She always intended to picnic there, but it was never the right time. Moving back, she knew some things would be different. A new restaurant here, a new development there. This, though, this peeled back a piece of her soul and tossed it aside. True, the old trees weren’t native, they had been planted just so by some long ago gardener, but she realized as she gazed across the wild saplings, when she decided to come home, she had really decided to be here. To finally have a picnic.
ReplyDelete“You are what you eat,” Mother said before she ate a tree. We knew she was unhappy when she spent hours staring at the cream painted walls, her back facing the window that opened to the yard. We knew she was starving, but not for food. The table creaked under plates and platters, freshly cooked and uneaten. We knew she was desperate for time, diagnostic reports crumpled, unfolded, and creased again into balls Cat pawed. We knew she was ready and did not block her path when she crawled out the window, into the garden and swallowed a sapling whole.
ReplyDelete