independence
this post is for the writing prompt “independence” that’s up over at studio 30+ this week.
she stared at the white, flaked chip on the mug until her coffee was cold. finally she took a sip. then another. and with the third sip, she drained the coffee and left the dregs at the bottom.
the air conditioning kicked on with a slow hum as she pushed herself away from the kitchen table. a small spider made its way up the edge of the white door frame.
for a split second, she entertained the idea of moving back in the house. it was certainly lovely and comfortable. but she had broken free of this house, this space, this life.
the eldest of 5, she was the executor of the will. how she had acquired such responsibility, she had no idea. but it was there. the weight of it all. resting in perfectly cylindrical knots atop her shoulders.
she reached behind her head and squeezed the decades of stress and obligation.
“get rid of it,” she told henry, who scribbled in his notebook and then shrugged at her sibblings.
everything would be auctioned off to the highest bidder. it would be in the papers. dollar signs and last names.
when her brother protested, she closed her eyes.
“just think about it first, j. we don’t have to decide right this minute.”
opening her eyes, she reached for the drained coffee mug. she regarded the chip, touching it with her index finger. applying pressure until the crimson droplet found its way to the surface and then bled onto the rim.
“get rid of it,” she said again, and threw the mug against the pantry door.
cries were heard in the background as she exited the house. her sister called after her, but knew she wouldn’t return. it was never her intention to be there in the first place.
she got in her car and found a band-aid underneath some napkins in her glove compartment. after tossing a used napkin out the window, she lit a cigarette and pulled out of the driveway.
red
this post is for the writing prompt at studio 30 + where i am currently navigating the waters and dabbling back into fiction, which i haven’t done for a while… and it feels kinda nice.
this week’s prompt was RED.
leaving her mother’s, she gained this intense combination of feeling both alive and petrified at the same moment. she pulled back the sliding glass door, stepped on the snow that covered the back deck, and quietly closed the door behind her.
regardless of the number of times she has snuck out of her mother’s house, the same thrill of leaving along with the fear of getting caught resonated in deeply within her body, and it was as though she had woken up from an exquisite night’s sleep.
the bitter cold may have had something to do with her awakening as well.
pulling her winter coat around her tiny frame, she adjusted her satchel and began her walk. only a half mile until she reached her destination, but it was freezing out. even still, she couldn’t risk taking her own car. the noise of simply starting it would wake her mother.
it was only half after 3 in the afternoon and already her mother had been passed out for almost an hour. as per usual, she checked that her mom was still breathing and wasn’t holding a lit cigarette before she snuck out the sliding glass door.
while she walked, she thought of the cigarettes… how many were lit… how many had burnt holes in the carpet, the couch, clothing. she thought of the empty bottles of smirnoff and those fucking red labels that just screamed “ATTENTION ATTENTION, I AM A CHEAP THRILL.”
her speed quickened as she felt herself grow more and more angry. resentful. disgusted.
beyond the 4-way stop, she saw the gas station and the brake lights on the truck.
her destination. for the next 2 hours she would be free.
she smiled.
the passenger side door was unlocked. she tossed her satchel in the back seat, hopped in the front, and put on her seat belt.
the driver, a 42 year old man, nodded his head at her and gave her a soft smile. there was shame in his eyes. embarrassment.
looking at him, her heart softened and she reached into the back seat to retrieve her satchel.
she pulled out the workbook, red letters on the cover, spelling out “3rd grade mathematics.”
with the workbook in her lap, she reached over and gently placed her hand on top of his.
“let’s get to work,” she said assuredly.
he put the truck in drive and turned left out of the gas station, towards the public library.
Have a Sip
