Picture it & Write VIII

Every fortnight the fantastic ermiliablog hosts a photograph suggested by contributors. People are urged to join in, comment with their paragraph of fiction to accompany the image. Poems, stories, even comments by readers are welcome.

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I dunno who my folks were. Like everyone, I was told I wasn’t wanted… A stray cat that belonged to no one… A nameless slob with no home, no future, no nothin’… I ne’er told anyone this but… I do remember. I remember my momma’s voice… ‘twas soft, like ‘em fluffy white towels at one of those grand hotel rooms. I’d hold ‘em ‘gainst my face every time I wash myself up in the bathroom… I remember her singin’ me a lullaby… Now, if only I could understand ‘em words… ‘twas from another language… So I know I wasn’t from here. I doubt that anyone of us is from here.

I don’t talk much to others. I don’t have no friends. Can’t afford ‘em. Don’t wanna be missin’ nobody when I fin’lly get to leave this shithole. Now the other bigger kids they think, this is it. There ain’t nuthin’ more to it. They’ll prolly end up b’comin’ like Mona here, in charge of the pimpin’ and groomin’, pickin’ out these dresses so that we’ll look good for ‘em rich old geezers. But not me… I’m getting’ outa here. I got a plan, you see. Every time one of those rich old bastards hand me a tip, I keep it. When I was younger, they trained me to pick pockets; at least that turned out to be useful. I stash the money away in a can, keep it in a hole I built in the ground. ‘tis the last place Mona and the other mean kids will look for I s’ppose. I dunno how to go ’bout it ‘xactly, but it’s a start. If there’s somthin’ I learnt from those wrinkly old bastards, it’s that money can get you everythin’. A dress. A decent meal. A cigarette. Hopefully, it can get me my freedom. Mona’s here now, she takin’ us to the city. Life stinks but watcha gonna do?

© 2013 K.Z. Morano

*the story’s too sad for me and a painful reality for some.. i dunno, i might change it/ make another one. it just made me feel sad after writing it. 😦

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26 thoughts on “Picture it & Write VIII

    • i know, right? it’s rather depressing. i made the character sound tough though so that it won’t be like its cut-out from some tearful telenovela (that i watched a lot) lol

  1. What? Are you nuts? You want all stories to be land of milk and honey sweet? This was beautifully written and the voice is perfect. No way is it sad because this kid has hope and faith and a plan. Who knows how her story will end but then who of us ever know how our own story will end? Leave this just as it is. Go write another if you must but do not delete this.

    • thanks, Paul 🙂 ok then i won’t remove it. i’ll fool myself into believin’ she’s got a chance in hell..ah well, what do we know, maybe she does ^^ it just makes me feel so sad that some kid out there is living this story. but thank you 🙂

  2. Pingback: Violet « The Eclectic Eccentric Shopaholic

  3. Sometimes an image evokes a sad story and there’s nothing wrong with that. I really liked the writing and how you wrote in the accent of the girl. Sometimes that makes it harder to read, but it also makes it more believable and gives the character a strong voice.

    • thank you 🙂 i’m very glad you liked the story.. though most of the stories i create seem to end up sad ^^ haha thanks for the photos, they spark much inspiration

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