Supper Is Late

RDP Wednesday Prompt: Fright

Emil Carlsen

In a small dark room

with dusty plaster walls

spiders watch from the rafters

and mice listen from inside the walls

to a  green eyed woman named Edith

and her eyeless son  Ferdinand

and the ghosts that haunt the halls

of this dark and lifeless home.

 

Inside  their small dark room

there’s  a picture on the wall

of ripe and glistening fruit

waiting to be touched, tasted and devoured.

 

Ferdinand can’t see it

and Edith can all but smell it

but neither cares much for it

because what they long to feast on is

 

Downstairs at the front door.

 

“Knock on  the door a little louder, I think I saw a light in the window upstairs. ” one

voice says

Another chimes in, ”  Nobody lives in this falling down old place, lets just go in. ”

 

” Dinner. ” says Edith.

” Desert”  says Ferdinand.

” A sumptuous repast  ” say the Ghosts  ” at last”

 

 

 

 

 

Falling

RDP Monday: Brink

 I’ve slid to the brink

I’ve skated on the brink

I’ve grabbed the brink with both hands and held on until my fingers bled

and sometimes I’ve let go

and sailed all the way down

to the place where the earth meets the sky

and the Moon never rises

and the sun never sets

and I can pretend that it’s the wind I hear

crying.

It’s only the wind, I tell myself.

The Back Door

RDP Sunday: Homecoming

Bo Fransson, Watercolor

Do you know why I love this painting?

I loved  it because at first glance it looks like Grandma’s back porch- well, my Grandmother’s back porch’s opened up on the same sort of thing- the tree, the gravel road, the pale light.

But then if you look at it again you see the ramp, the water pipe, the door with the glass windows, the rough mat inside of the door  and then again there is the doorway itself.

It’s wide, it’s solid , it’s a utilitarian door.

And then it hit me.

It reminds me of the door at a funeral home I visited a long time ago.

That’s what I love about this painting- it tells you it’s story in a soft voice- but at the same  time it’s a scary soft voice.

I like that in art- and I like it in my stories too.

amm