Forgotten Power

brenda-cox-merry-go-round

 

She took another sip of coffee. A small one. To make it last.

A dreary morning meant the outdoor cafe wasn’t busy. Still, the waiter would surely clear her table as soon as her cup ran dry. He’d already deposited the check to flutter underneath the saucer. Hastening her to remove the eyesore of tattered bags and unkempt hair from the establishment.

Her chest tightened and her hand trembled. She forced in a deep breath.

She used to own the place. In better days.

She could still see it, riding through her mind’s eye. Her colorfully beloved Flower Power Cafe.

 

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt: © Brenda Cox

 

Fair Share …

 

flower girl

A little girl of preschool age sits with her mom in session. She substitutes some sounds and tends to delete the ends of words, saying things like: “pe” instead of ‘pen’, “la” instead of ‘laugh’, “ha” instead of ‘hat’, “may” instead of “make”, “wabee” instead of ‘rabbit.’ Her speech can be difficult to understand, which is why she sees me for speech therapy.

Articulation aside, this girl’s language and expressive skills are up to par, and her infectiously delicious personality keeps us in stitches half the time.

We’re practicing saying word-endings by “discovering” (uncovering) and naming picture cards: “pig”, “hug”, “map”, “cat”, “man” … She pauses on the picture of the man. He is dressed in a suit and tie.

She’s been to a wedding recently as a flower girl to the bride–her mom’s cousin–and has been fascinated with weddings since. White dresses, tutus, flowing gowns, flowers, princess-wear… It enchants her to no end and she ‘plays bride’ with her dolls, marches with imaginary flowers down makeshift aisles.

“Mommy,” she pipes, pointing at the picture of the suit-clad man. “Is he getting married?” (“ee he geti mawee?”… it helps to know what she is referring to, if one is to understand …).

“Maybe,” The mother smiles.

“I want to get married, too,” the child demands.

“When you grow up you can. Who will you marry?” Mom can’t resist.

“Daddy.”

“Oh, but I already married Daddy, Sweetie. You’ll have to marry someone else.”

Storm clouds gather on the little girl’s face. “That’s not fair!” She states, hands on hips for emphasis. “You already had your turn. You have to share! It’s my turn to marry Daddy now!”

share chairhere comes the bride