“You have me bending over backwards every day and I am sick of it!” Meghan stomped out of her and her husband’s house. They had another daily spat over one more thing and one more thing was enough to break Meghan’s ever patient mind.
“It’s unacceptable to be constantly running around all day long and not get anything done; look at this house, it is a pigsty,” exclaimed Clarence right before Meghan ran out on him.
Looking at the house, there were the morning’s dishes piled in the sink and yesterday’s laundry in the basket to be folded, while Clarence sat at his computer and played games, waiting for Meghan to wait on him, while he also ignored the children; and that’s when things got loud; Clarence opened his mouth and asked when would lunch be served. This was right after Meghan just got home from picking up their children at school, along with running errands for groceries, gas, getting his list of “necessities” and not grabbing a latte.
As Meghan drove away, she heard this song and made one of her own.
Just a little bending
Takes so little effort
Putting down that plaything
Would be more acceptable
Over unacceptable responses
Killing chances at harmony
There you have it! This is my Six Sentence Story – Double Feature 😉 A little prose, a little poetry and away we go! Want to join us? Go to Girlie on the Edge and have a shot at at.
And bonus points for checking out Living Poetry for the other prompt for this week. Win:Win
Chalia’s arms itched relentlessly, as she stood in the long, slow moving line, at least six feet apart from the man in front of her, watching his sweat drenched shirt grow wetter and wetter, Chalia sighed, wondering if her own sweat glands were causing a stench for others in the line.
Reaching back to scratch her upper back, Chalia gracefully turned her nose to check herself for any possible unwanted odor, all she could smell was roses and vanilla, the scent she applied after her cool morning shower, resting in assurance that she passed the test, she relaxed and crossed her arms, shifting her feet and waiting.
It won’t be much longer, she thought as she edged her way closer to the door, I will soon be in the arms of the one I love and we will be together forevermore, and with these thoughts a slight smile graced her face and her eyes moistened with tears of joy.
“What’s that you have in your hand?” Looking down, she wondered what the stranger behind her was referring to when, she realized that it was the mask she held onto for a brief, cooling moment before putting it back on; “That’s supposed to stay on your face, missy,” chided the stranger.
Shifting her feet in the line and approaching the door, Chalia had a thought of saying something back to the stranger, when she realized that it may be best to leave well enough alone, before meeting her beloved at the hospital to take him home, nothing would get in the way of her elation.