Josephine clutched his hand as she hoisted herself up, onto the overturned crate. She steadied her Avia sneakers in the center of the crates plastic grid. She clutched hairless palm to her belly. She raised her fist in the air, cleared her throat and began to speak.
"I never eat collard greens on Thursday. If you ever read the back of the mail, you’d know that. Never, ever, ever!"
A lanky 14 yo boy delivers groceries to the blue-haired wife of the town mortician. He arrives at 4:45pm on the dot, every Tuesday. Why did he stop?
my songs were
lightly peppered …with
Then I met him.
I sing my stories…everyday.
Daily writing prompt…
The rule: Story, scene, song, flash, poem…use it however you want. But please, either shock me or make me feel more than I was ready for.
Be sure to tag #WalkWrite so I can tell you if you followed the rule.