In response to dVerse Poets Pub prompt from Tulips & Chimneys, by e. e. cummings using the last line of IX-Impressions: ‘In the street of the sky night walks scattering poems.’
Posted by Linda Lee Lyberg – Write a story of 144 words or less, not including the title. (RULES: The story must have a beginning and an end, and should not be poetry. You must use the poetry line above within your story in its entirety without inserting any other words.) ______________________________
Awaiting the night, the day drags eternal. Minute after minute melts into hours that drizzle down windows caked with age and grime.
Finally, finally Old Sol gives up his day reigns to allow Lady Moon to rule the night. Creatures of darkness slip from beneath fallen brown and red marbled leaves, damp from evening dew.
Huge toads emerge slowly, eyes scan the area for land and air predators, also beasts of blackness. Owls, snakes, crocodiles of the swamp and bigger toads out to find a tasty meal, or two.
Crickets chirp their melancholy mating song. The paramour of the previous night, devoured by another drawn by her tune. The eater later finds himself within the belly of an even bigger connoisseur of fresh prey.
It is this darkness that bids the writer out for in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems.
I watched a man today, an older man he was, walking quick as can be from the store across the parking lot to his truck where he’d left it you see.
Toddling far behind, each step appeared laborious with no obvious nomenclature, was his wife of as many years, but much rounder in her stature.
He didn’t seem to notice, didn’t seem to mind that his wife of many untold years, he’d left so far behind. He dropped his small shopping bag into the rear gate, slid beneath the steering wheel where he proceeded to just wait.
The stout woman trudged along, her eyes straight ahead. Her feet seemed to lag behind the swaying of her head. She neither smiled or grimaced in her wake while she struggled on alone. Her husband of a long, long time sitting idly while she climbed into his truckish throne.
Not once did he relinquish his kingly domain to offer her assistance, this woman who bore his name. She pulled and she clambered to take her seat so high and before her belt was fastened tight, onto the highway he did fly.
He left the door open! Do I stay or do I run? He might be waiting right outside, a test to see if I’ll stay. The grass is so green, the sky brilliant blue and there’s freedom right through those doors.
But, do I want freedom? He takes care of me, feeds me, keeps me warm. Sure, there are some uncomfortable times, but isn’t there always no matter where you are or who you’re with?
Maybe I could just poke my head out, see what’s out there and breathe the cool Autumn air. I’ll bet it smells like fall flowers, pumpkins and bonfires burning. It’s Halloween night, at least I think it’s Halloween night.
If I run, he’ll be upset, mad. It will hurt his feelings and make him sad. I don’t want to make him sad, or mad. He promised me a special treat on Halloween.
What if leaving the doors open is my treat and I don’t take it? He’ll really be angry with me then, or will he be angry if I do take it, leave, run. I can hear footsteps, it’s him. Or maybe not, might be someone else. If they find me, he will be livid.