The Beginning

Sci fi/Fantasy image by

Perseus Penaloza

Ivana extricated herself from the hammock with an air of urgency.  As is the case for seemingly endless nights that usually heralded the coming of equally tedious days, ( scant mercy, as in the former, one was blessedly dead to the world ) it was slow litigation, whether she would dawdle for a while with an oft-neglected tome from her grandmother's voluminous reserve of quaint literature ( what with Chaucer, Keats, Faulkner and perchance even Browning, that madman of Balladic verse, cheek-by-jowl in voiceless fawning for an attentive eye ) or the saccharine scorn dripping all over that wonder of the working man ( or woman, or child...) who came to be known as  " Haul yer own  freight! " Indeed, hafting another's burden was a cardinal sin, no place revolts from it more than this litterbox of survivors. A few had, in their own way, defied that unspoken yet deeply ingrained tradition. But they had all known better. This was not a hospice for fools. No place is. The sink was obscured with gunk, and were not those oddly-shaped pearls teeth? Pa came home last night. And left again, the time was just fine for a spew, a cleaning-up and bite or  two. A man has to have his vices, and someone resilient ( or stupid ) enough to clean up after him, apparently. What you can't change, you try to love. And sometimes you succeed. Trickles of ashen sunlight spied through the half-closed windows, repetitious and mundane. The birthed Monday, though, was anything but.  

Published More than a year ago

Category Fantasy

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