This is a painting of me, by me, painting an Abstract piece of art.
Happy Weekend, Everyone!!!
A Painting of painting
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Tag Archives: Daily Prompt
Missing you
The Nuances to which we differed was minimal compared to how we were alike.
Love you, Daddy
Don’t let the coppers stop us!
The goods are hidden under a canvas in the backseat. I pinch my nose. The smell’s giving me a headache.
“Lux,” Frank says as we putter down the road.
I remember the advertisement. Lux soap, rich in fragrance.
“Every box has a layer of soap on top. Not Ivory. Miss Helen says it’s not strong enough.”
“But you can’t smell sealed moonshine anyway,” I say.
“No. But she says if I’m stopped, I’m supposed to say I’m delivering soap to Common’s Variety in Houston.”
“And if we are stopped, say I’m your little sister. It would look daffy otherwise.”
“Deal.”
We settle in for the drive, Miss Helen’s directions between us.
“You know what she told me before I left?” Frank says.
Before I’ve counted to three, Frank says, “Get there as fast as Holly Gap gossip.”
I backhand his shoulder and laugh. “Then we should already be there,” I say, and settle into Nervous Town where a daddy finds out his daughter lied.
Excerpt from The Moonshine Thicket by CD-W
Don’t hide! We need you!
We wonder how she sleeps at night
with such a mighty horn
We know she takes it off most times
pretending she’s a mule.
We Ruminate and contemplate
Why is it that she hides?
Since her beauty is a treasure
where real magic lives inside.
Be yourself, our dear one
Show your colors bright!
For without you, we authors have
no words that we can write!
featured image photo credit
Caught red (yellow)-handed
“Prostitute the Sphinx” by Toulouse Lautrec Henri
“My God, it’s Marcy’s!” The temperance union president stared rage into Sadie’s eyes.
The restaurant became silent. No clinking of cutlery, no chattering of women.
Sadie frowned and glanced up at Mrs. Stoddard. “Excuse me?”
“I said that’s my Marcy’s scarf. I gave it to her.” With one swift move, Mrs. Stoddard pulled the scarf from Sadie’s neck and examined the fabric. “See, right here.” She pointed to a tiny section of the material where, in faded ink, “M.S.” was printed.
Sadie squinted and folded her arms. “I found it, ma’am.”
“Where! Where did you find it? Where is Marcy? Tell me this instant. Someone find an officer!”
Sadie froze. “An officer? I don’t understand. You can keep it, if you’d like.”
Patrons murmured and buzzed like a Swarm of bees in a hive with no queen.
Sadie turned her frightened gaze away from Mrs. Stoddard. “Meta, I think we should head back.”
“You are going nowhere, young lady. Not until you answer some questions.” The woman’s lip quivered as she held the silk scarf against her cheek.
I searched the restaurant for support. Anyone. If only Sheriff Tobin were here. But the faces around the tables were unfriendly, their eyes condemning.
Excerpt from The Last Bordello
Lustful jelly-mixing?
“Daddy says that an almost fourteen year old boy might want something more than an almost twelve year old girl might want to give.”
Now it’s Miss Helen’s turn to puzzle her face. “A thirteen year old boy tried to take advantage of you?”
“Take advantage?” I say.
“Sit down, child.”
I start thinking we’ll be late for school.
“Emma June,” she says. “Boys that age don’t always think above their neck.” She sees the look on my face and says, “Let me continue. They have this jelly that runs through their veins and makes them look at girls with lustful eyes. Pay attention now, you’re not leaving till I’ve had my say. Anyhow, I don’t know if they can help it or not, but a boy trying to grow into a man wants to touch every part of a girl trying to grow into a woman.” Miss Helen leans back to peek in her family room where Mr. Leonard is sitting. “Well, grown men are kinda the same.” She mumbles and turns back to me. “Now, as girls get older, they get their own kind of lustful jelly. But girls need to keep that jelly under control and wait until they’re married to mix their bodies with a man’s.” Her hands fidget with that ugly, flowery, ruffled apron around her waist. “Clear?”
About as clear as thick chocolate cake.
Excerpt from The Moonshine Thicket
Not such a Vivid response, is it?
Fear
Miss Primrose rings the dismissal bell but catches me on my way out. “Emmy June? Your mother’s been gone how long now?”
“Almost three weeks.”
“Well, I was wondering if Theo, you and your daddy, would like me to come over. I’ll cook for you.”
“Thank you, Miss Primrose. I’ll be sure to let you know.”
She smiles like she’s won a battle. But she doesn’t know the Crawford Alamo is heavily fortified, and Santa Ana Primrose won’t stand a chance getting inside.
Outside, Scooter and Frank are waiting for me.
“Where’s Carla?” I say.
“Getting peepers,” Scoot says, and it makes me smile thinking that, after her eye appointment, Carla might finally see through to her good senses.
“Oh boy,” Scoot says and shuffles backwards, his eyes like large pecans instead of almonds.
Frank and I turn to see what he’s looking at.
I Doubt Frank’s as scared as I am.
Excerpt from The Moonshine Thicket
The Soldier
He Hesitates. He’s not supposed to because this is war. But fear takes over and he thinks of home.
The soul and spirit can be stubborn
When the Universe pushed her buttons, she pushed back too hard. And, since the soul and spirit can be stubborn, it took a long time to find her Center. But when she did, she discovered that Life is a Cabaret.
One of my first paintings.
Nervous Sweat
Frank’s nervous, too. The way he strangles the steering wheel reminds me of the time Daddy taught Mama to drive. Mama had Jiggled nervous sweat. Daddy stayed calm and quiet like he was reading the death notices in the Galveston Post. I sat in the back giggling my socks off.
Mama kept turning to see if I was still alive. “You okay, baby? You okay?”
“Bernice, sugar. You have to keep your eyes on the road.”
Daddy and me didn’t have much to worry about. She never went more than five miles an hour.
Daddy had tilted toward me and winked, “Hope you’re not too hungry, Little Tulip. This might take a while.”
When we got home, Mama had to change out of her sweaty clothes. Daddy gave her a big hug and said, “Bernice, you make me proud.”
But that was then.
Excerpt from The Moonshine Thicket
Carolyn Dennis-Willingham 