She’s creaming butter and sugar. I’m at her feet with my Legos. She looks down and smiles. Who’s winning now, Greg?
I hate Greg. He calls Mom every day. Her voice sounds yucky when she talks to him, like too much syrup on pancakes.
The phone rings. She whispers something into it and walks away, playing with her hair.
I stand on my toes and tilt the powdered sugar bag. But she doesn’t look back.
The ashes fall lightly on me.
I love how make a little story out a small scene, Hema! This was so cute. The mom writer is on a roll 🙂
Btw, I tried to comment via phone, but the ‘post comment’ button does not appear on the phone.
Haha! Thanks, Uma 🙂
Thank you, Uma!
Oh dear. That doesn’t sound so good. I just love how complete this felt, Hema. I could see and hear everything that was happening.
Thanks, Mel. I wrote this while I was baking cookies with M 🙂 It amazes me how far kids go to get attention.
This is excellent! Powdered sugar is a clever way to interpret the prompt, and there’s so much hurt packed into those final lines.
I’m relieved to read your comment, Laura! Thank you 🙂 I was worried the connection between the powdered sugar and ashes wouldn’t come through.
WordPress won’t let me like your post! Anyway, what a darling take on the prompt. Your child-voice shines.
Thank you for that thoughtful comment, Danielle! Child voices are always so hard to get right. Glad it worked for you.
For some reason, I can’t “like” your Micro. But I do! I do! I do!
Thank you, Amy! <3 <3