A Table For Two

 

She placed the heavy chairs just so. Added a table that was dumped in front of the Crumble Cafe when the owners changed and the new management did away with all the old stuff. Staff included.

All of them kicked to the curb.

She had no job, but could be a foster mama to a table.

Especially as she had already two chairs waiting. Cast iron to pair with the castoff.

“A table for two,” she told Harriet.

Harriet made herself comfortable. On the table.

“Really?” Mattie laughed.

Harriet swished her tail in feline approval.

Cream and crumpets.

Perfect pair.

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Rowena Curtin

 

Another Step

volkan-olmez-wESKMSgZJDo-unsplash

(Photo by Volkan Olmez on Unsplash)

 

Her legs were lead.

Her arms were stone.

She could not take another step.

The weight around her neck,

Shackles

She could not

Discard.

She was so tired.

But she’d gotten them away

And he was breathing still.

So she shifted the child in her arms.

Walked on.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of: tired in 48 words

 

New Order

 

 

She stood at the back and tried to make herself as small as possible.

Not easy, with her stature and attire.

Still, she hoped the shadows would afford some obscurity. Bad enough to be made to attend and be tallied. It would be worse to be noticed. To be named.

The speakers roared. The bands played deafening propaganda.

She stood. She clapped. She swayed as necessary.

She stayed alert. Her life depended on it.

But in a corner of her mind, she was a child still, pumping feet toward a blue sky. Still free. To believe. To think. To be.

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Ted Strutz