July
Momma ran her hands through her hair. Always uncombed. Always a mess. Her skin looked dry today, hanging on her bones.
The living room window was open. It was so hot. No one wanted to wear clothes.
Tommy sat on the couch in his blue underwear, his brown skin dirty looking. His toes definitely dirty.
The Statler Brothers played from the radio. All Tommy wanted to do was watch TV.
Momma would probably let him.
Except Momma had been staring at the wall for a real long time and it scared him. So Tommy just sat there, staring at his mother.
Sissy started to stir in her room, soft, low. I am awake cries.
She suddenly opened her bedroom door, diapered in a green shirt, rubbing her eyes. She plopped on the floor just outside the door and did not move.
Momma looked up at Tommy, suddenly aware. Her eyes were un-readable.
"Your Father has not sent the money," she whispered. Her eyes were suddenly bright, shimmering, luminous. He watched as a lone tear coarsed through her dry skin, leaving a slow path to her chin.
He said nothing.
"If the money does not come tomorrow, we will be eating ice cream cones for supper."
Tommy could not help but smile.
"Do not smile, Tommy," she sighed. "We have no ice cream."
"I know, Momma," he said.
But he kept smiling. They had raspberry jam in the fridge. There was nothing better in an ice cream cone as far as he was concerned.
"Everything will be okay, Momma."
She nodded her head, slowly at him and turned her attention back to the wall.
Tommy really wanted those raspberry jam-filled cones.
He did not get them.
Momma ran her hands through her hair. Always uncombed. Always a mess. Her skin looked dry today, hanging on her bones.
The living room window was open. It was so hot. No one wanted to wear clothes.
Tommy sat on the couch in his blue underwear, his brown skin dirty looking. His toes definitely dirty.
The Statler Brothers played from the radio. All Tommy wanted to do was watch TV.
Momma would probably let him.
Except Momma had been staring at the wall for a real long time and it scared him. So Tommy just sat there, staring at his mother.
Sissy started to stir in her room, soft, low. I am awake cries.
She suddenly opened her bedroom door, diapered in a green shirt, rubbing her eyes. She plopped on the floor just outside the door and did not move.
Momma looked up at Tommy, suddenly aware. Her eyes were un-readable.
"Your Father has not sent the money," she whispered. Her eyes were suddenly bright, shimmering, luminous. He watched as a lone tear coarsed through her dry skin, leaving a slow path to her chin.
He said nothing.
"If the money does not come tomorrow, we will be eating ice cream cones for supper."
Tommy could not help but smile.
"Do not smile, Tommy," she sighed. "We have no ice cream."
"I know, Momma," he said.
But he kept smiling. They had raspberry jam in the fridge. There was nothing better in an ice cream cone as far as he was concerned.
"Everything will be okay, Momma."
She nodded her head, slowly at him and turned her attention back to the wall.
Tommy really wanted those raspberry jam-filled cones.
He did not get them.
Comments
Crap! Reading your story just sent the temperature around me scrambling up the thermometer. Turn on some fans! Turn up the A/C!! Eeeeeeeeeeee!
(By the way, she could, I suppose, get a job... or something...)
Hmmm...did I just copy myself?
:)
:)