A night's accommodation to start my life
Freepik
I didn't bother to ask further; we just trekked to the junction, boarded a motorbike, and went back to where I kept my bag. I got there around 6:45 p.m., I thanked the Mama for her kindness, and I asked her if she knew of any available houses for rent. She pointed at a shop some meters away, saying I should go and meet the owner of the shop because he has a room he rents to corpers every year. I thanked her so much, carried my luggage, and as I was about to move, she stretched her hands, handing me a nylon bag with oranges, she must have seen how hungry and tired my face was. I thanked her so well and moved to the shop.
The ghost of what we used to be
Unsplash
She was so stunned by that sudden arrival that when Margaret came in with bags and headed straight for the kitchen while she kept talking, she didn't understand a word she was saying. She didn't seem to notice, concentrating on starting to cook, so she took the opportunity to sit on the living room furniture, admiring the way she moved so gracefully without even trying. A fleeting thought came to her mind before she could help it—the great possibility that moments like that would never be repeated—something that caused a pang in her chest. Tears gathered in her eyes, and a lump formed in her throat that she held back because she knew she would cry if she was careless, but it was no use; in less than a couple of minutes, a sob escaped her lips, alerting Margaret to what was happening.
Brush strokes of love
Pixabay
The image on her screen was a breathtaking painting of herself, rendered with exquisite detail and emotion. Every brushstroke seemed to capture the essence of her being, from the way her hair fell gracefully around her shoulders to the spark of her eyes. It was as if he had painted her soul onto the canvas.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she gazed at the image, her emotions overwhelming her. At the bottom of the painting, in his familiar handwriting, were the simple yet powerful words, "I miss you." The shock and joy she felt were indescribable, and her heart swelled with love for the man who had created this beautiful masterpiece just to express his longing for her.
Those days of MISSING her
Pixabay
"Dad?."
"Yes, my melody." He never calls me by my actual name; it's always Melody or my baby girl. It makes me happy most times.
"Would you ever get back with mom? I know you miss her just like we do."
Dad was always so calculative and calm; you rarely saw his mask crack, but I knew my question did something to him because he actually looked hurt.
"Melody, it's not that simple; yes, I miss your mom so much, but..."
"Yeah, excuses, Dad, if you wanted to get back with her, you'd have a long time ago" James fires back as he lazily traces patterns on the Windows screen.
Pixabay
"Was he going to say my picture was enticing? Was he going to ask me to be his girlfriend? I got really anxious when he spent about 10 minutes typing. At some point, I found myself pacing. I was on the message immediately when my phone beeped.
"I'm sorry if this is going to upset you, Treasure, but I have to tell you the truth. I think you need some time alone to yourself, time to rediscover yourself. Your pictures are beautiful, but when I saw them I knew whose idea it was. Behind all the makeup, smiles, and poses, deep down, the real, Treasure, is crying for expression. Don't stifle her trying to be someone else…."
Creative Nonfiction Prompt #49
Credit @redheadpei, Building; @doriangel Forest Scene; @redheadpei Red Roof
Our reward was rich and immediate. Besides spiders, moss and mold we found a trove of comic books. Strewn about the floor in piles, the comic covers beckoned. There we found Superman, Archie, Spiderman. I'd never seen a comic book before. In short order we had collected the books that were not moldy and carried them back to our house.
It was the start of summer recess. For the rest of the summer I would spend nights and rainy days reading the comics. When I'd read them all I'd start over. My favorites were the Archie comics. Veronica, Jughead, Betty--these characters all came to life for me.
Seventy-nine
Pexels
The only thing we thought of was humbling her, clipping her wings. We didn't think of how to do it.
"We heard you're one of the highest in biology," Kosiso said.
"Yes." She smiled again. I rolled my eyes at her antics. I knew what she was doing. She was trying to reduce the tension in the air but it wasn't working.
"What was your score again?" Judith asked. I smiled as her eyes narrowed into a slit. It may be small but it held so much contempt, it made me smile.
"79." Precious folded her hands and shifted on her feet. She adjusted her glasses and looked at me.
I stared back at her. I didn't say a word.
@jayna , @gracielaacevedo , @yaziris , @itsostylish , and @samsmith1971
p.s. You can see the past magazines here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22,23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46,47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67,68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107,108, 109, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 116, 117, 118, 119, 120, 121, 122, 123
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