Not Invisible

 

He crouched by the lockers.

Feet swarmed by. Sneakers, sandals, loafers, tennis-shoes. The hallways rang with voices and a smell wafted from the floor. A mix of sweat, old puke, and industrial cleaner. The smell of school.

It was odd. To be invisible.

Not literally, but still. A new kid in a city with more kids in this one building than in the whole town he’d come from.

“Hey, you,” a foot in a shiny Mary Jane nudged the edge of his bag.

He looked up.

“You Mark?”

He nodded.

“Cool. Come with. I’m Clara. Welcoming committee. Show you around.”

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers 

(Photo credit: J Hardy Carroll)

 

Have Your Fill

budding NaamaYehuda (2)

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

Fill your eyes with the budding

Potential of life as it bounds

To the surface, bursting forth,

A force to be reckoned, with a sigh

Of tremulous

Hope.

Fill your heart with the tenderest

New things, which will bloom

In your soul

Deep within.

 

 

 

For the dVerse quadrille challenge: fill

 

The Winner

wesley-eland-678737-unsplash

Photo: Wesley Eland

 

It was never about the money, or the endless calculations, or the disappointment she learned to expect and accept. The odds were against her. She knew that. Everyone said so. Many laughed.

And yet …

She could scarce believe it when she saw the numbers and date and words line up, when she knew that for once — in the way that mattered most — she was the winner.

She rubbed her eyes. Checked everything again.

She called to double check. Her heart thrumming in her chest.

She wrote down every detail: The place. The time. The plan. The day when her life would forever change.

Or had it changed already?

That night she tossed and turned and even though she finally fell asleep, she woke before dawn with her heart aflutter, and gazed into the ceiling till the morning brought with it the first few rays of sun.

A day reborn. Herself, perhaps, as well.

Nights will never be the same, she thought. Nor mornings.

Nor any other time in any other hour. Winter or summer. Light or dark.

She counted down the days, excited beyond words and somewhat frightened — should she tell? Who to? How much to share? How much to keep to herself?

Eventually she’ll have to. …

Oh, there will be a celebration! She could list in her mind the friends who’d rejoice with her. She could also note the dread of recognizing those whose green-eyed-monsters might awaken. Will she lose friendships over this? Will jealousy taint what she’d never quite dared to believe would be awarded her?

“I won the lottery,” she whispered to herself, holding the bit of paper between shaking fingers. “They’ve checked it out and they’ve agreed. It’s approved. Two more weeks … I won’t believe it till I’m there. Till after. Till I’m back home with a new life in my hands.”

She pulled out the photo. Drank it in. The ebony chubby cheeks. The dimple in the elbow. The eyes. These eyes …

“I’m coming, Bomani …” She kissed the picture that the orphanage included with the adoption papers. “Mama’s coming for you, my little son-to-be.”

 

 

For V.J.’s Weekly Challenge: Lottery

 

From The Other Side

April snow3 NaamaYehuda

April 2018 Snow. Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

Last year’s snow

Gave way

To melted cold,

So blooming trees

 This Spring

Unfold

To leak

New life

To Winter’s old.

 

 

Note: This is the original unedited color photo, and represents the actual light and hues on the day the photo was taken.

For Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge: From the side

 

 

The Cost of Living

smallpox hospital Roosevelt Island IngeVandormael

Photo: Inge Vandormael

 

She had come to make a new life.

She found illness. She found death.

And life, perhaps, hiding in the shadows

Of her convalescing sorrow,

Waiting

To take hold.

 

She had come in search of meaning.

She found a babble of confusion.

Within. Without.

Rising skyward. Buried underground.

She found hope, too. For things she didn’t know

Even had names

But sprouted meaning

In the corners of what she believed

Was ruined,

But had in fact been opened

To allow in the winds of change.

 

She came seeking answers,

And found the cost

Of living

Paid for little more than added questions,

And that she had to look

Quite closely

At what wasn’t there,

To find

What she did not even know

She had been searching for.

 

 

 

Photo: The old Smallpox Hospital on Roosevelt Island (a narrow island set in the East River between Queens and Manhattan).

For What Pegman Saw: Manhattan Island

 

Light And Shed

Light and Shed inbarasif

Photo: Inbar Asif

 

Old it stretched

Brooding shade

O’er neat furrows made,

Watching new rows reborn

And the greens

Field adorn,

Growing tall, rising now

Making lush, anyhow.

 

 

For the dVerse Poets Challenge: Shed

 

A Good Fit

Photo by Bryan Schneider

Photo: Bryan Schneider on Pexels.com

 

“How does it look?” she twirled,

And I knew she was asking about

A lot more

Than the dress.

 

“It looks really great,” I answered,

And she knew

It was about

A lot more than

Her silhouette,

Or how the fabric hugged

Her curves.

 

“Then I’ll take it,” she said.

And we smiled because

We both knew

It meant she will take him, as well.

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Silhouette in 65 words

 

She Drives

down the mountain AtaraKatz

Photo: Atara Katz

 

Down the mountain

She drives

As fields await wheat

To arrive.

Down the mountain

She strives

Arrow straight

To a new life.

 

 

For Wits-End Photo Challenge: Road

 

Recharging Place

May NYC2 NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

The green lung of the City

In verdure cape

Blooms anew.

Living room and backyard

It knows just

What to do:

Communal Central Park

Breathing life

Into you.

 

For The Photo Challenge