Carla chews celery.
Crunches, chomps, celebrates, conks.
Chromatic cigar.
About the Creator
ARC
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Rain didn’t stop Mala. Swaddling for Edgar covered the baby boy’s body and she held her other son’s, Burton, six-year-old hand. The mud, muck, and mire didn’t hinder her from staying on course with her mission. From Pennsylvania, they all trekked to get closer and closer to land that was never promised but simply implied. Each step produced more mud caked around her sneakers. She didn’t care. Her rucksack provided them protein packs to put into plastic bottles and nuts and berries and dried meats to keep their muscles in good health. Water hydrated. She rested. The baby had been asleep the entire time that she had started her journey and her eldest son remained silent throughout the excursion as well.
By Skyler Saunders6 days ago in Chapters
Comments (4)
Lol, this is seriously absurdist writing. Why must she chomp so? Oh, the things I'm picturing... And I love the pic; I too, always put my bread and eggs loose in the door of my fridge, next to my milk...
lol love the Chromatic Cigar
“Chromatic cigar” … celery just got a new nickname. 😂 👏🏽
Thank you for sharing this short and playful piece of writing! The alliteration and repetition of "c" sounds throughout the three lines gave the poem a fun and lighthearted tone. I appreciate the creativity in using something as simple as chewing celery to create a unique and memorable image. Your choice of words and phrasing were concise yet effective in conveying the scene. Well done and keep up the great work!