The Sun was setting around the windows,
a dusty sort of start to the dance.
Is this a funeral? Or a wedding?
I smile at the little girl across from me,
the question floating around us with
the band gearing up again.
/
Surprisingly, neither. It’s a reunion.
/
Re-un-ion. She says.
/
Her hands are twisting around a
flower necklace, large and hard silver
and so pretty on a girl that loves
to ask questions.
/
I want to say
Where did you get your courage,
Moon child?
When did you start watching
the band play instruments
and learning to listen?
/
I have been here quietly,
for so long it seems,
confused, and intending to stay that way.
/
She fists the material on my shirt suddenly,
and I perk to attention.
What is it, my love? I coo at her.
She gives me a big smile,
and a gentle cock of her head,
Oh, nothing. I just like this shirt.
/
I forgot we can just do things
without any other intention.
/
We should dance.
Her statement is followed with eyes
like the night shade in full,
and her hands find mine
in sure touches that tell me,
Here we go, and we don’t need to know why.
About the Creator
Lisa Herdman
I'm learning to be wildly inappropriate, ridiculous, needy - and alive.
Thank you so much for all the support!
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More stories from Lisa Herdman and writers in Poets and other communities.
Two Wrinkles In Time
It is pointless to run, my darling, because sixty seconds ago, I will kill you. My blade will have sliced reality open right in front of you. It will have first pierced it as it would a bed sheet left hanging to dry, flapping in the wind on a Sunday afternoon. But the metal will have drawn a line in the air that the ghostly tear will have followed. Then I, La Dyablès, machete firmly in hand, will have emerged from what your mind, at the time, could only interpret as the other side of here—whatever that means to you. I know. I have seen that look on the faces of countless unlucky… clients. You will not have been the first nor the last to try and reneg on a riches for soul contract only to present this visage to me when I come to collect.
By Lily Séjor6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
And we can love this little vignette you have shared with us with no need to give a reason other than it filled our hearts & made us smile. (Might even have brought a tear to our eyes.)
Hi Lisa ~ Where have you been ~ Haven't seen you on this side of the pond lately - This is so lovely and not with just a "Little-Touch" of deep thought to create - Jay