photo by Baher Khairy via Unsplash
One, two: Unless she’s wearing
pink, everybody thinks she’s a boy (so what, I’m not dressing her in pink).
Three, four: She’s not bothered, I still get to decide what she wears (green & brown hide grass & mud stains, see).
Five, six: It had better look pretty or she’s not going to wear it (and she’ll be the judge of what is and isn’t pretty).
photo by Philip Estrada
yarn the shade of Eoin’s fiery hair which goes so well with her stripy bedlinen,
Gracie finds herself yearning for him and hasn’t darned a single sock
when Mam comes to fetch them.
‘You remember my friend Janice?’
‘Course I remember her, Nan.’
‘Her daughter, she’s a lawyer and she could use some help. Lot of unfair dismissal cases and such. It’s not human rights, but it’s a start.’
‘Nah, human rights, that’s so five years ago. I was young and stupid.’
‘Idealistic, I’d call it. Didn’t you study law to help people?’
‘Well, I didn’t know the options then, did I? The internship I did earlier this year, the firm want me back.’
‘The internship you hated because it was so tedious?’
‘Tedious. And unpaid. You should see
my starting salary, though.’
photo by Alex Jones
When I watch my girlfriends – one going through a nasty divorce, another dating jerk after jerk, and that’s only the last few months –
I appreciate what I learnt from my old man. His teaching methods were unconventional – the cheating liar abandoned my mother, my sister and me during my formative years.
I hated him, for almost a decade. But look at me now. I’m nearing thirty and no man has left a chink in my armour. I expect the worst, I expect behaviour worthy of my father. I haven’t met anyone half as bad yet. I haven’t been disappointed again.
FFfAW week 68 photo prompt via Unsplash
‘Give it a decade and Manhattan will be ours. We have waited this long, why the sudden rush?’
‘Mother, please,’ Marina pleads.
It’s her only wish. Mother remains unmoved.
‘It’s so unfair, Delphine. Why won’t she let me? Shelley goes, all the time.’
‘Shelley tried once and got caught. You know she likes telling tales. She doesn’t know the safe way out.’
Marina’s eyes light up like an anglerfish.
I hesitate for a second. She’s only thirty-three and I may regret this.
‘No word to anyone. Including Shelley. Up there, you follow my lead. Happy Birthday, baby sis.’
31 of 31 for Story A Day May.
photo by Henry Lo
She has learnt to endure Father’s punishment without so much as a flinch – if she flinches, whimpers, cries, he’ll get angrier.
But she’s inherited Father’s anger. The first time it flares up when she finds a bruise on her baby brother.
The second time, it makes her fling herself at Father’s fist as he’s about to hit her brother again. The look of shock on his face is almost worth the pain of the beating she takes in return.
She doesn’t want there to be a third time. She will have to talk to someone before she turns into Father.
30 of 31 for Story A Day May, using this week’s Moral Mondays prompt.
(c) Sonya, 2015
‘A mermaid who cannot sing is like a fish without fins.’
The eldest sister gives a sad shake of the head that makes her hair float from side to side.
‘Will you not give her voice back?’
‘Deal’s a deal.’
The five sisters wince.
‘If she could
sing, she might rediscover happiness.’
Is the youngest sister sang, wouldn’t she infect anyone who listened with her sadness? If she wanted the ability to voice her heartache, wouldn’t she come herself?
But mostly, the sea-witch likes watching the King’s daughters recoil when they hear
a mermaid’s voice out of a sea-witch’s mouth.
22 of 31 for Story A Day May.
photo prompt (c) S. Writings
They drive in silence until Father pulls into a dirt lane and turns the engine off. They sit in the backseat, holding hands.
‘Food and water in the boot. Brought your sleeping bags? Here, keys. Good luck.’
Off he treks.
‘Now what, Han?’
‘Don’t worry. We’ll drive until we find friendly people who’ll take us in.’
Hanna jangles the keys. Starting the car takes three attempts, turning it around six.
‘You’ll get us killed.’
‘Cut the negativity, Greg.’
‘How do you manage to remain so chirpy?’
‘We can’t let that witch win. We’ll survive and one day, we’ll get revenge.’
10 of 31 for Story A Day, inspired by this week’s FFfAW photo prompt.
photo by Ken Wu
‘Yikes, grandpa. Chat up someone closer to your age.’
‘I’m not chatting you up. That would be illegal.’
‘Yeah? I might be eighteen.’
‘I’ve been watching you for a couple of days.’
‘Watching me? It’s getting worse by the sentence.’
‘I am your grandfather. Paternal grandfather.’
‘No, you’re not. I mean, you look old enough, but you hardly give off the responsible adult vibe. Also, my father’s father is dead.’
‘Is that what Jamie told you? How did I die?’
‘Dunno… Crap, you look just like him, though. If Dad were old and a hippie, I mean.’
7 of 31 for Story A Day.
TLT week 13 photo prompt by Dayne Topkin
The way Mum put it, Aunt Beth lost it when she moved away from the civilised world, but maybe she’s been saner than any of us; she’s had years to acclimatise.
‘It’s ready but be careful, these get super hot,’ Beth says, pointing to the red enamel cup next to the matching kettle – who knew you didn’t need electricity to make coffee?
Beth’s cabin’s clean, dry and there’s good coffee – beats what’s left of civilisation.