Untenable

 

the-new-york-public-library-pwoTQl2xuM8-unsplash

(Photo: The NYPL on unsplash)

 

They didn’t plan to bring

With them

A legion of

Trouble.

They only wished

To find,

For their

Loved ones,

A measure of

Escape.

A new home where

They could

Be safe.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Legion in 32 words

 

Little Brother

jan-kopriva-77La8Of1F9g-unsplash

(Photo: Jan Kopřiva on Unsplash)

 

When he grew up, he was going to be like his big brother.

Tall. Proud. Sturdy. Up to the task.

For now, he had to comfort himself with the benefits of smaller stature.

Getting into nooks and crannies, fitting where his brother could not bend or fold to reach.

When he grew up, he was going to be like his brother.

Heavily bristled. Proudly mustached.

Meanwhile, Brush put his still-short-bristles to good use through many chores.

This way, once grown, he could graduate to being a Broom.

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Brush in 87 words

 

By The Books

arrow-gaa3fbdcd7_1280

Photo: MoneyforCoffee on Pixabay

 

Now that it was all hers, she wanted none of it.

She didn’t give an iota for questions or neighbors’ looks.

Out went the furniture. The clothing. The towels.

The reminders of swindlers and rooks.

She got rid of the bedding, the shelving,

The whole kit and caboodle in numerous crannies and nooks.

There was naught in the house for her

But memories of pain and emotional hooks.

She cleaned out the lot

And left only the books.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Caboodle in 78 words

 

The Marshal

lily-L9sfa34Um1k-unsplash

(Photo: Lily on Unsplash)

 

The day rose bright but she knew better than to trust

Cornflower

Skies.

It will turn wet,

She knew,

As soon as her boots

Hit the ground.

The gift of rain

On golden epaulets

Glittering through muddy parade

Grounds.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Marshal in 39 words

 

Unsuitable For Your Kind

kristian-strand-NvH1gWqdyRY-unsplash

(Photo: Kristian Strand on Unsplash)

 

“The best,” the man swept a heavy arm across the offerings.

“And there?” the woman gestured at the shadows.

“Nothing worth your time, Madam.” He looked pointedly at her tailored attire, “Unsuitable for your kind.”

“Nonsense,” she ordered.

He frowned but snapped his fingers. “Silvia!”

The child looked underfed even in comparison to the other orphans.

“Trouble,” he warned. “Used up her chances twice.”

“Or,” the woman smiled, “very insufficiently pre-loved.”

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Pre-loved in 71 words

 

 

Dew On A Banana Leaf

ferhat-deniz-fors-ebs1W8X2cPQ-unsplash

(Photo: Ferhat Deniz Fors on Unsplash)

 

“Have you seen her?” Mark thrust his head and shoulders through the open dutch door.

Ella nodded carefully. The light’s angle made the perspiration dotting Mark’s wide forehead look like dew on a banana leaf. How odd.

“And?” he pressed.

“Daphne is fine.”

Mark grunted his impatience. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it!”

Ella sighed in resignation. There will be no escaping the truth, no matter how much it could hurt him. “There’s a glow about her, if you must know.”

Mark sagged.

“And … an engagement ring on her finger.”

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of Glow in 94 words

 

In Every Dawn

New Dawn

(Photo: Na’ama Yehuda)

 

The light spun silent waves

Of day

Into her heart,

Her chambers slowly opening

Their delicate petals

To sing

The morning’s chant.

There is a hope,

She knows,

In every dawn.

Its breath imparting

An oasis

And a coming home.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Oasis in 40 words

 

On Full Display

pop-zebra-iY7_Z4Xz6qg-unsplash

(Photo: Pop & Zebra on Unsplash)

 

They were going to hem and haw and huff and pout and stare.

She knew, already, from little-disguised cold shoulders

And from frowns

And neighbors’ glare,

That there will be no escaping their displeasure,

Anyway.

Even though they did not explicitly say,

Or outright forbid

Or demand that she

Obey,

She had no doubt that there will nonetheless be some community hell

To pay.

So might as well she do things as her heart designed,

And let her spirit play.

The vivid laughter of her soul

On full display.

 

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: vivid in 89 words

 

A Morning’s Weave

anant-chandra-HbzhJpEOgZ0-unsplash

(Photo: Anant Chandra on Unsplash)

 

As Sun rose

In the east

It darned

A web of light upon

The leaves,

And sprinkled gold on

Spiders’ orbs

That dangled from

The eaves.

 

The artist watched the dawn

And breathed.

For though her heart

Believed,

She knew her fingers

Do not have the skill

To tessellate this wonder

Into the mosaic that

Her soul

Perceived.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Tessellate in 58 words

 

Indispensable

catt-liu-eI2GTv3T1yo-unsplash

(Photo: Catt Liu on Unsplash)

 

She checked the items off the list.

One by one by one by one.

She’d learned to not look too far down. Better to not confront endlessness. To not have to face it that today, too, there will not be a moment when the job is done. When she is free.

Only another task.

Another chore.

Mistress claimed she was “indispensable.”

Praise or curse for why she could not get a few days off to see her ailing mother. To rest. To marry.

“We’re your family,” Mistress had said. “We need you. It is a requisite you stay.”

 

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Challenge: Requisite in 98 words