Low Note

RIP

Les K Lee

You were a good man

and a Hell of a musician

1962-2019

amm

Missing

SFC CHOCOLATE BOX PROMPT: LATE LATE ONE NIGHT-Write after peeping through the door of Memory

Photo A.M. Moscoso

There was just enough pale white light filtering through the single cracked and dust stained basement window for Fia to see that she was in trouble.

The room Fia was standing in was dark and unfinished.  Stacked in the middle of the room were shovels a saw and rotted planks of  wood. Next to that was a pile of rusty  nails coated with the remains of the box that held them at one time and two flashlights.

She didn’t bother to see if they worked.

The  floor was hard packed  earth.  The bricks walls were covered with moss and green slime and the ceiling- once supported by strong wooden beams were now being held up by twist and a magical shift in gravity because she doubted if the sticky mats of spiders webs were doing the trick.

Fia spent a very long time looking into the dark corner near the window and eventually she decided too look for the door because there had to be one.

Right?

Right.

It wasn’t that it was to dark to see if there was a door. What took up her time were the minutes- maybe hours it is not outside othe realm of possibilities to say it may have been days to fully realize the one simple fact.

There wasn’t a door and if there had been one it was gone now and Fia wondered who could have taken it away.

Somebody must have, doors just don’t get up and walk away.

Fia walked the small room along the edges close to the wall and then she crossed it from the middle and as she paced the room and realized that the small window was the only way in or out she did wonder how she managed to make her way in through such a small space,

The little bit of light that made it’s way to Fia was gone and then it was back and she heard  a voice at the window.  At first Fia thought somebody was talking to her  but before she could make a sound t she heard another voice answer the first.

Fia stepped away from the window and into the darkest corner of the room. She didn’t assume that the voices belonging to the people outside of the window were there to help her.

She held her breath.

Maybe they were the reason she was down here.

She hugged the wall and moved towards the window, she didn’t flinch when the window cracked and parts of it rained down on top of her head.

A cold breath of air slithered down the window and wrapped itself around Fia’s  face, it slid over her shoulders and down her back.

The cool touch woke her up and her eyes opened wide  and she took a step away from the window.

” Hey, look!” one of the voices cried out ” I think there’s a room down there. It’s probably  the basement of the house that used to be here.”

Fia crouched.

” Do you think there’s any thing down there?”

Fia was sure there was something down there and she was also very sure it wasn’t a good idea-

to let her out.

 

Its Because I Love You

Fandango’s February Expressions #9

A kind word

a harsh word

a glare, a snort a laugh

expressions of contempt

hidden in a joke, wrapped up in jest

passed down like a prized possession

from Mother to Son to me.

The Shell

SFC PROMPT: Inside the Seashell

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I used to be afraid

of getting my face wet

I was afraid of Ladybugs and falling down the stairs and forgetting

how to get home

even though I didn’t want to be there.

I used to be afraid of

giving the wrong answers to questions like how do you do, what street is that on

can you give me the directions?

I used to be afraid of being alone and left to the rats and the dust and cobwebs full of dead and dying bugs.

And then one day someone said to me,

” You have a tough shell, you can face anything, take anything, beat anything back! You are so amazing!”

Sure I thought, bang it on my tombstone- not that it matters, I doubt you’d mourn my death. I won’t mourn yours.

Besides, shells are not tough.

They are shaped and carved by the world around them

and they are so very

fragile.