Written for The Unicorn Challenge where
we are urged to get creative in 250 words or less.
The photo below is our inspiration; this is my story.
Tag: Humiliation
Descent Into Madness
Melissa is our host for dVerse Prosery Monday. She has asked us to write a prose story of up to 144 words using the quote “I pray to God that she may lie forever with unopened eye” by Edgar Allan Poe. Here is my prose in exactly 144 words.
It was no secret that Frederick’s father committed suicide, due, in no small part, to his wife’s constant belittling. The note he left read “The vile bitch! I pray to God that she may lie forever with unopened eye”.
Not wanting his mother to be alone, and despite his wife Helene’s protests, Frederick moved his mother into their home. He hoped the two women might provide some companionship for each other but they soon began arguing.
Helene could do nothing right in her mother-in-law’s eyes. The old woman went so far as to flaunt Helene’s inability to have a baby, goading her on by calling her wretched, a desiccated vessel, a disappointing failure.
Now the pain and humiliation had taken its toll and Helene began her descent into madness. One day while Frederick was at work, she bludgeoned his mother to a bloody pulp.
NAR©2024
144 Words
This is “Song by Edgar Allan Poe”
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
GUEST POST: TWICE AS SLOW AS MOLASSES
TODAY I AM FEATURING A NEW GUEST ON MY SITE – ROBERT CAMPBELL. HIS POEM IS ONE OF THOSE PIECES THAT REACHES INTO YOUR CHEST, GRABS ONTO YOUR HEART AND WON’T LET GO. IT PIERCES THE SOUL AND WRIGGLES INTO THE BRAIN TO MAKE YOU FEEL AND THINK AND PRAY FOR CHANGE. THIS POWERFUL HOMAGE TO ALL WOMEN EVERYWHERE IS APPROPRIATE AND NECESSARY EVERY DAY, PARTICULARLY NOW AS WE CELEBRATE MOTHER’S DAY. THANK YOU, ROBERT, FOR ACKNOWLEDGING THE PLIGHT OF WOMEN AROUND THE WORLD. IT’S AN HONOR TO SHARE MY SPACE WITH YOU.
AND THE MUSE CAME AGAIN AND SAID,
“Bard, Mother’s Day is this Sunday. It
should make us ponder how our mothers
lived and died to determine if our society
should look for ways for it to improve in
regard to their welfare from the cradle to
the grave, improvements in areas such
as education, gender equality, and health care.”
AND THE BARD REPLIED,
“It would be wonderful if we would all so
ponder and make vast improvements.”
How Can You Call Yourself a Woman
***Oh Yes***
For to truly be a woman,
Is to get your joy from serving others,
And to be a beast of burden,
To your husbands, fathers, and brothers.
But, it all really comes down to,
Just kissing a lot a asses,
And watching your life go by,
Twice as slow as molasses.
***Yes***
How can you call yourself a woman,
If you weren’t molested when you were young,
And you haven’t been told by everyone,
That you are ugly, boring, fat, and dumb.
How can you call yourself a woman,
If you’ve never been asked to be nice,
Or reminded to keep your nose clean,
And not have to be told anything twice.
How can you call yourself a woman,
If you’ve never been taught how to cook,
To get up at four in the morning,
And be pretty for all who want to look.
How can you call yourself a woman
If you have never been told a lie,
And how you must learn to live with it,
To suck it up, and never ever cry.
***Oh Yes***
For to truly be a woman,
Is to get your joy from serving others,
And to be a beast of burden,
To your husbands, fathers, and brothers.
But, it all really comes down to,
Just kissing a lot a asses,
And watching your life go by,
Twice as slow as molasses.
***Yes***
How can you call yourself a woman,
If you were not raped on your first date;
And then hear all others blame you for it,
And say, “Some bring about their own fate.”
How can you call yourself a woman,
If you weren’t screwed on your wedding day,
And then got to find out soon thereafter,
You were forever in a family way.
How can you call yourself a woman,
If you have never done no child care,
If you have never scrubbed a dirty neck,
Or gotten crap out of soiled underwear.
How can you call yourself a woman,
If you’ve never been told a million lies:
Or if you’ve never had to believe them,
Or in a bunch of feeble alibis.
***Oh Yes***
For to truly be a woman,
Is to get your joy from serving others,
And to be a beast of burden,
To your husbands, fathers, and brothers.
But, it all really comes down to,
Just kissing a lot a asses,
And watching your life go by,
Twice as slow as molasses.
***Yes***
How can you call yourself a woman,
If you’ve never gone to Sunday School,
And had to hear all of the Brothers say,
“Be like us and practice the Golden Rule.”
How can you call yourself a woman,
If you’ve never forgiven everyone,
For each of their cruel and hateful acts,
And for everything else they have done.
How can you call yourself a woman,
If you’ve never had a dreadful disease,
And never gotten help from anyone,
Unless you begged for it on bended knees.
How can you call yourself a woman,
If you have never died all alone,
And have felt oh so grateful for it,
And had “At Rest” etched on your tombstone.
***Oh Yes***
For to truly be a woman,
Is to get your joy from serving others,
And to be a beast of burden,
To your husbands, fathers, and brothers.
But, it all really comes down to,
Just kissing a lot a asses,
And watching your life go by,
Twice as slow as molasses.
Copyright 2016 The Bard & Mrs. Bard R. Campbell
The Elephant's Trunk 