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Blogs > wickedeasy > wicked and that ain't so easy |
lost
lost Ringlets fell around her shoulders. Banana curls, her mama called them for some reason. All the other girls had nice straight shiny hair with bangs. She slipped and hung upside down on the monkey bars, tipping the world so she could swim in the sky. She was in trouble again. Sighing mightily, she figured it would only be another few minutes before he mama would come trotting over the hilltop, that gleam in her eye. Course she’d made it worse by running. She knew she wasn’t allowed to be at the playground without her sainted sister but sometimes well, if she didn’t have some quiet, she thought she just might explode from insideout. . .and the sainted one talked so hard. She sighed, feeling like she was the last loneliest girl in this world. Hot tears burned down her cheeks. She saw the little boy before he looked her way. He was crossing the street, dragging a stick behind him. Not a very big stick all in all but a big stick for him because he was little. Hooking her elbows over the bars she looked for the big person with him. He was littler than her brother, almost. She dropped to the dirt, wiped her hands on her bum, skip running forward. Then he saw her. He started scream crying like he’d been saving it up for days. She stopped about five feet away like she would with a dog, holding out a hand, talking low and sweet. “Hey, you lost? Where’s your mama? That’s a big old stick you have there. Can I see it?” He had no idea what she was saying, but he plonked down, stuck his thumb in his mouth, stared at her. She pulled him up on her hip, heading home, praying this would be enough to keep her mama from talking at her some more. As she started up the hill, there was mama. Her heart triple timed. Sometimes, it feels like God just brings you who you need. She ran to her with the boy bouncing like a broken toy. “Mama……..he’s all alone.” “Why isn’t he lucky you were here to find him then?” You cannot conceive the many without the one. |
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the duplicity of the mind. as a child, when I found this little boy, I saw him first as a way out of trouble...... when he ended up with us for a whole night, I claimed him. it was a torture to see him go the next day. and this was my punishment. that's what mama said... You cannot conceive the many without the one.
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Who was the saviour? Vive La Difference
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So beautifully written. You have such great stories. I can remember so little of my youth.
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That was captivating. You have a wonderful way with words
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