What Lenny Would Build

 

“I don’t know what to make of it,” Arlene shook her head.

“Of the sunset?” Molly’s already reedy voice rose higher.

Arlene took a deep breath. She forgot just how literal her sister-in-law was.

“No, the sunset is beautiful,” she stated. “And the arches.”

Molly turned to face Arlene. The glow from the ball of fire in the distance rendered one of her cheeks fire-orange, the other ashen-gray.

“So what did you mean?”

Arlene pointed to the oddly shaped building to their right. “This. Looks like what Lenny would build.”

“Lenny is three.” Molly noted.

“Exactly,” Arlene said. 

 

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo by Dale Rogerson

 

Patience

 

“How long will you be away?”

Pa patted Patience’s head. A rare affection from someone whose love was measured in ensuring there was grain and cloth and warmth enough for the lot of them.

“As long as the Lord deems right,” Pa responded.

“Hopefully the Lord deems it right quickly,” Patience blurted, bracing for reprimand. Children ought not question God’s plan.

“Amen if so,” Pa murmured, surprising her. He shouldered his rucksack, touched her head again. “You are the eldest. Help Ma and tend your siblings. And,” he added, “keep the tower lit, may its light lead me back home.”

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt: Dale Rogerson

 

 

Gamma’s Note

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(Photo: Jonatan Balderas Cabañas on Unsplash)

 

They didn’t know what they’d find when they got there.

The note only said to, quote: “get your backsides to my place without a dally.”

One didn’t dally when it came to Gamma. Didn’t stop their speculating, though. The whole seven-hour drive.

They didn’t try to call. Gamma abhorred phones.

“The Devil’s in them things,” she said.

One didn’t argue. Now no one would.

She was in her chair. Waiting. Already cold.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of Note in 72 words

 

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)

A Word In

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(Photo: Hal Cooks on Unsplash)

 

It’s not my fault

That she won’t stop

Talking.

My side of the family has never been a

Chatterbox.

My papa says nary a word.

My mama can hardly be called

Garrulous.

It is your relations who are incessantly

Loquacious.

With them one cannot get a word in sideways.

A dinner lasts three weeks.

A quarrel, half a century.

So do not come to me

Complaining

About Junior’s wordiness.

“You should listen to yourself,” you say?

Shifting blame is something

Else

Your whole family does

Pretty much endlessly.

 

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekened Writing Prompt of: Loquacious in 88 words

 

Greenhorn

 

“A pile of junk,” she had called it.

“My pile of junk,” Tim had responded, knowing then that if it came to choice, it would not be her he’d choose. And not because he cared for wheels and metal more than for flesh and blood. If Daria could not see why Poppa’s beloved Greenhorn was worth saving, she could not see worth where it sat.

Flesh and blood. Heart and soul. Memories and family.

His only. Family.

Daria found a man with a Jaguar.

Tim renovated Poppa’s car.

Found Miranda.

“A classic!” she exclaimed.

Flesh and heart. Worthy of Poppa’s car.

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Brenda Cox

 

 

 

 

Road Ready Monologue

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(Photo: SOCMIA Fotografía on Unsplash)

 

Get the kids. Get the bags. Pack the boot. Start the car.

And save that look for your Mother,

For having her jamborees so far.

Did you pee? Did you wash?

Are you sure the doors are locked?

Where’s your brother? Why right now?

Where does he think we’ll squeeze in his guitar?

No, you won’t.

Not you, too.

Don’t care if the harmonica will be something to do.

Off we go.

Off we are.

Right into bumper-to-bumper trucks.

We’ll never make it.

Best turn back.

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of: Jamboree in 86 words

 

Annum

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(Photo: Jill Sauve on Unsplash)

 

They named her Annum.

For being born just as the year turned time onto its head

To start anew.

Just as the numbers tumbled from the duos to the singles

To the very first

Of firsts.

A new beginning.

Just as she was,

Finally,

For them.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Year in 46 words

 

When The Weather Allows

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“When will they come home?” Lizbeth’s voice penetrated Mauve’s daydream. It was rare to find rest in the middle of her day, and Mauve couldn’t help a touch of resentment at the interference. Guilt smothered it. The wee bairn could not help wondering. She missed her brothers as much as Mauve did her sons.

“When the weather allows it,” Mauve gazed at the sea. The maker and breaker of everything. She loved it. She loathed it. She couldn’t see a life without it.

“Tonight?” Lizbeth pressed against the rail.

“More possible tomorrow,” Mauve swallowed a sigh. “So we shall hope.”

 

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Bradley Harris

 

Farewell

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(Photo: Amitai Asif)

 

They said farewell.

They said goodnight.

They walked into dark

From light.

Their hearts were sad.

Their eyes were bright

With tears that grief will soon ignite.

Her passing’s new

Her suffering done.

They walked with her as

One cycle ended and a new began.

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Goodnight in 45 words

Dedicated with love to my aunt, whose funeral is across an ocean and a sea tonight. May her memory be a blessing.