To The Naga’s Protection

 

“The Naga will protect you, Laang Chaai.”

“Yes, Yaai,” the boy swallowed tears and nodded to his grandmother. Even at his tender age he knew that his Yaai’s love would not be enough. Her body bent over like a broken bamboo, the shape of rice-paddy work even with no paddy to bend over.

The wrinkled hand touched boy’s head, devastated to give up her laang chaai. His mother had died in childbirth, yet she never thought of her grandson as an orphan. Till today.

The monks will raise him now.

“Khawp khun khrap” the boy bowed, palms together over heart.

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt: © David Stewart

Glossary:

Naga – semi-divine dragon-serpents in Thai culture which possess supernatural powers and are the patrons of water

Laang Chaai – grandson

Yaai – grandmother

khawp khun khrap – thank you (when said by male)

Her Own Shadow

 

Evening light filtered through partially open curtains. Outside the porch’s floorboards sighed. A car’s engine coughed into life. The scent of crushed leaves and motor oil drifted on an errant breeze.

She sighed.

There will be time to sort through the tangled mess inside her heart, to sweep up shards of life, to breathe out the echoes of words she wished to never have heard.

Not yet.

For the moment, she just sat.

A shadow of her former self.

In a house that wept emptiness.

And let the space behind her eyes

Hold her as she waited

To be found.

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo: © Dale Rogerson

 

Slip Slidin’ Away

Photo prompt © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

Now that it was time, she couldn’t get herself to do it.

The ice around her heart mirrored the slick coating on the deck, the driveway, the car. The accumulation of cold thinned. Her resolve cracked.

It dripped and melted into tears where the memories took hold. Where the sweet moments were as real as the many that weren’t.

Perhaps she should just wait longer. Hope for spring. Pray for summer’s warmth. Forget the frozen tundra that their relationships had become. The hurt. The broken bones.

The more she was nearing her destination, the more she was slip slidin’ away.

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

 

Bonus track of the song that played in my head as soon as I saw the photo: