Sissy threw her cereal around the kitchen from her highchair. Milk and Cheerios hitting the kitchen cabinets, before sliding to the floor.
"I want a cookie, Tommy, I want a cookie," she wailed over and over again.
But Tommy was late and he did not answer her. Instead, he wheeled the highchair into the living room and flipped on the television; finding a cartoon.
"Let Momma sleep awhile," he warned his little sister. Momma was still asleep on the couch.
"O-tay, Tommy," she replied, and Tommy reached over and took the two-dollar bill that was on the coffee table, and he ran out the front door and to school.
The big green doors of the school were pretty big compared to Tommy. He looked up at them and then down to himself reflected in the dark glass.
Maybe I won't go to school today.
Tommy had thought this before. Sometimes as a daydreams and sometimes as bed dreams and sometimes at times like these.
Tommy hated walking into class late. Everybody staring at him.
Everybody knew mothers were supposed to wake-up.
Everybody knew if you were late to class it was because your mother didn't.
The kids hated him.
His teacher pitied him.
And Tommy knew it.
Tommy decided he would go to the arcade. He didn't think to hide from people. Instead he ran to the arcade, and it was probably because he was running that no one noticed him. Tommy was the fastest kid alive. He could even beat a cheetah.
Tommy caught his breath
He looked up and the fat guy behind the counter was staring at him.
"Whadaya doing here, kid?"
And Tommy thought the guy was nuts for asking, but he answered him anyway. "I come to play video games, sir."
"Yer not supposed to be here," he sounded angry. "Yer supposed to be at school."
And Tommy conceded, "Yeah, but it ain't like this is habit or anything."
And Joe thought that was a good point, so he didn't call anyone to tell them about the boy.
Instead, he introduced the kid as 'my friend, Tommy' to all the men that came in to play pool that day. And he let him sweep the floors for more quarters. And he fed him Slushies all day long. And because Joe had kids himself, he knew when to shout, "Tommy, school's out!"
Tommy gave up the racing game he was playing immediately and he was sad, but he hurried towards the front of the arcade.
He felt obliged to say something to Joe. He said, "Thank you, sir. I had a really good time."
And Joe wanted to smile, but instead he pointed at the boy and said in his meanest, nastiest voice, "I don't wanna see you back here for at least a month, kid."
And Joe scared Tommy a little bit, so he turned, yelling, "Yes, sir!" as he ran out the door.
"I want a cookie, Tommy, I want a cookie," she wailed over and over again.
But Tommy was late and he did not answer her. Instead, he wheeled the highchair into the living room and flipped on the television; finding a cartoon.
"Let Momma sleep awhile," he warned his little sister. Momma was still asleep on the couch.
"O-tay, Tommy," she replied, and Tommy reached over and took the two-dollar bill that was on the coffee table, and he ran out the front door and to school.
The big green doors of the school were pretty big compared to Tommy. He looked up at them and then down to himself reflected in the dark glass.
Maybe I won't go to school today.
Tommy had thought this before. Sometimes as a daydreams and sometimes as bed dreams and sometimes at times like these.
Tommy hated walking into class late. Everybody staring at him.
Everybody knew mothers were supposed to wake-up.
Everybody knew if you were late to class it was because your mother didn't.
The kids hated him.
His teacher pitied him.
And Tommy knew it.
Tommy decided he would go to the arcade. He didn't think to hide from people. Instead he ran to the arcade, and it was probably because he was running that no one noticed him. Tommy was the fastest kid alive. He could even beat a cheetah.
Tommy caught his breath
He looked up and the fat guy behind the counter was staring at him.
"Whadaya doing here, kid?"
And Tommy thought the guy was nuts for asking, but he answered him anyway. "I come to play video games, sir."
"Yer not supposed to be here," he sounded angry. "Yer supposed to be at school."
And Tommy conceded, "Yeah, but it ain't like this is habit or anything."
And Joe thought that was a good point, so he didn't call anyone to tell them about the boy.
Instead, he introduced the kid as 'my friend, Tommy' to all the men that came in to play pool that day. And he let him sweep the floors for more quarters. And he fed him Slushies all day long. And because Joe had kids himself, he knew when to shout, "Tommy, school's out!"
Tommy gave up the racing game he was playing immediately and he was sad, but he hurried towards the front of the arcade.
He felt obliged to say something to Joe. He said, "Thank you, sir. I had a really good time."
And Joe wanted to smile, but instead he pointed at the boy and said in his meanest, nastiest voice, "I don't wanna see you back here for at least a month, kid."
And Joe scared Tommy a little bit, so he turned, yelling, "Yes, sir!" as he ran out the door.
Comments
i mean, these are just some ideas.
Q
And quit worrying already.
:)
Q
"No Sugar Tonight" brings out the mother instinct in me. I want to find Tommy and rescue him from the harsh realities that prevail. (Your words have power.)
You obviously have a GIFT, and I encourage you to use it responsibly. You have the talent to make a splash felt 'round the world, but only with a redemptive agenda. The world is immune to shock-waves. Only truth will truly capture its attention.
I mean this as encouragement, not as criticism.
"May God bless the work of your hands" (Psalm 90).
Susan
www.intothedeep.net