Tag: Child

Short Story

Nancy, Enchanted

The Sicilian Storyteller

Written for Sadje’s What Do You See #240

© DollarGill @ Unsplash

Come in, little one. You’ve nothing to fear from me. Don’t be shy now. Come away from the door where you are peeking and step inside. This is my enchanted place, my special magic space.

That’s it, child, one step at a time. Look around to your heart’s content. There’s nothing bad here. But I must caution you not to touch anything. The time will come for that and you must be patient.

Ah, I see you’ve noticed my book. It’s lovely, isn’t it? I don’t suppose you’ve ever seen one quite like it, have you? You have many questions, little one. They’re in you eyes, in the slight tilt of your head and the almost imperceptible upturn of your lips. It’s pleasing, is it not, this little book of mine?

It’s magic, you know. But then again, in the right hands, all books are magic. Yes it’s true. You hold the key, child. Not in your pocket or inside your shoe but in your mind and in your heart.

Come closer, child. Read from the book, listen to what it tells you. Enchanting, isn’t it? No need to touch, my dear. The pages will turn themselves.

I know what you’re thinking. Where can you get such a wondrous book? Am I right? I knew it! They’re all around you, child! Everywhere! But I have something special to share with you. Come close to hear my secret. Let me whisper in your ear.

My dear, not only can you read these beguiling pages. You can write them! Imagine the places you will visit, child.

There’s nothing to fear, little one. Simply step inside the blue bubble and all will become clear to you. That’s it, child. Step inside the magic land of books and dreams and amazing ideas. It’s a captivating place. Enchanting, isn’t it?

NAR©2024
#WDYS

Dedicated to my 7th grade teacher, Mrs. Romana Paschal, who encouraged me to write and whispered in my ear to reach for the all the dreams, little and big.

This is “Dream Weaver” by Gary Wright

What do you see # 240 – May 27, 2024

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Flash

The Cruel Mother

The Sicilian Storyteller

Written for Weekend Writing Prompt #358 ~ Superscript

Just like something out of the evening news.

Did the attractive young woman, a former nurse and mother of one toddler, actually feed her little boy bleach or was it just a dreadful accident?

How could any jury not believe the clean-faced white woman in the proper skirt and blouse as she tearfully recounted the events of that horrific morning?

But they did believe her and only the most perceptible viewer in the courtroom or the living room caught the slightest cold-blooded superscript curl of her top left lip.

NAR©2024
89 Words

Weekend Writing Prompt #358 – Superscript

This is Emily Smith with “The Cruel Mother”

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Uncategorized

PAINT IT BLACK

The Sicilian Storyteller

It is raining; Little Joseph, only four years old, is riding in the back of a big black car, his mother Carla by his side, following a long, flower-covered car and Mommy said Daddy’s in that car but Joseph can’t see him.

Their car stops and other cars arrive, depositing crying people dressed in black who follow some men carrying a long black box into a grassy field as Joseph wonders ‘Is this a picnic?’ but then the men lower the box into a large hole in the ground and Mommy tells Joseph to “say goodbye to Daddy.”

Joseph is confused but follows her lead, tossing a flower into the hole and returns to the car where Carla lights a cigarette, smiles and tells Joseph Daddy won’t be coming back; this makes Joseph feel so very sad – he can’t understand why Daddy would leave without saying goodbye – so he looks out the window and waves bye-bye with his little hand.

It is raining again and Joseph wants Mommy to play with him but she says “No 
 I’m busy on the phone” so little Joseph goes exploring in the cellar where there are lots of boxes 
 great for climbing and building; Joseph spots a small box among the big ones and decides it’s perfect for the top of his fort and just as he’s placing it on the tippy top, it slips from his hands, scattering torn photos of Daddy and newspaper clippings, too, but he can only read a few words – â€˜BOAT’ … ‘LOST’ … ‘ROMANO’ – his surname; Joseph doesn’t understand any of it but he instinctively knows Mommy would be mad at him so he puts the box back where he found it and goes upstairs. 

It is still raining but Joseph hears laughter outside and from the window he can see Mommy and a man kissing under a tree; the man takes a suitcase from his car and he and Mommy run to the house, throwing open the door, dripping wet, still laughing and Joseph thinks it’s all very strange for grown-ups to act this way.

Carla looks at Joseph and scolds, â€œNaughty boy! Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” but Joseph just stands there, looking at them; â€œWell, silly goose”, purrs Mommy, “Say hello to my friend 
 he’s your Daddy now.” and they run up the stairs laughing, hugging and kissing, leaving Joseph alone in the hallway so melancholy and wondering if it will ever stop raining.

NAR © 2023

Reprised, reworked and rewritten from a 2018 piece
[because I lost track of time and forgot to write a new one].
It’s a 6, don’t you know! Punctuation be damned!
❀

Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt!