She is fourteen years old. You know, the year when everything becomes fake real. And the crisis of today is who will ask her to the Homecoming Dance. It’s her first major high school event. She has anticipated this every since she helped her older sister get ready for prom three years earlier. She can’t wait to coordinate colors and take the mall by storm. But as last period ends and the masses fill the halls, he is nowhere in sight.
Defeated, she gathers her bookbag, pops in some earbuds, and scurries out the building. Walking the familiar trail home, she takes in the fragrances of fall and is reminded that there is always Monday.
LaRonda Gray Moore
He came straight from morning service – couldn’t risk going home to change. When Melissa arrived he asked, “how long do you think it will take for them to figure it out?” “Hopefully hours, she quickly replied.”
This day was unusually cool for late August, yet they sat and watched it depart. This plan was weeks in the making, ever since they realized that the summer doesn’t last forever.
Tomorrow morning Melissa and her family will go home. So today, Ryan and Melissa will ride their bikes to the edge of the grove where a small path leads to a creek. There, season’s don’t change.
© LaRonda Moore
Inspired by FFfAW Challenge, 4/3/2018.
Photo courtesy of Dorothy.
Funny thing about souvenirs, in an instance, they can transport you to another time and place. Jennifer has hers proudly displayed in her great grandmother’s antique curio. She loves the sentimental value that housing such an important family heirloom brings as equally as she loves the keepsakes that she has filled it with.
Walking over to the cabinet, she takes a moment to to admire her menagerie before she starts the chore. It’s the third Thursday of the month which means it’s dusting day. Shelf by shelf, she cleans each piece. Some are delicate, dainty, and beautiful, while others are a little more off-beat and fun-going. Her favorite, always gets dusted first. It’s the most peculiar of her collection and a real conversation starter. As she picks it up, she giggles to herself and begins.
Inspired by FFfAW Challenge, 2/13/18.
Photo courtesy of Lavanya.
Wiping the crust from her eyes, she stretches to the sky and struggles to accept the dawning of this new day. Yesterday has left her cold. She is now alone. Broken mementos from the fallout are scattered about the room. She gazes at them awkwardly, unsure if she wants to repair them or further damage them. She checks her phone, then wishes she hadn’t because there are no missed calls. She pulls up his number and wages a war in her head over should she or shouldn’t she. Seconds turn to minutes and just as reluctance turns to rage, she presses the green bottom.
(c) LaRonda Moore
Last night was her toughest one yet. She spent more time shivering than sleeping. Admiring the mystery of the mist that gently embraces the air, she stands to stretch. Then, in one swift move, grabs her book bag, places one foot in front of the other and continues her expedition. The constant thought of turning back floods her conscious, but the prospect of what she would be returning to makes her quickly dismiss it.
As she walks, she pays close attention to the sounds of her surroundings. “It’s nature’s soundtrack,” her mother would tell her. She can hear two blue jays talking, a sparrow singing, and a sound that is not indigenous to the woods that had been her home for the past four days. She listens closer and a smile begins to form through the dirt and smeared makeup on her face. In a mixture of exhaustion and joy, she drops to her knees and sighs, “That’s highway noise, I made it.”
© LaRonda Moore
Inspired by FFfAW Challenge #109
Photo courtesy of Yarnspinnerr.
The spring season always brings about a change, weather it is the flowers that suddenly want out or wardrobe pieces that move from the back to the front of the closet. The Fairfax family has always used this time to capture the essence of their aristocracy with a family portrait. It has been a long-standing tradition that stretches back generations beyond the current soil, to the other side of the pond.
On portrait day, each respective patriarch rounds up his brood and heads to the manor all dressed in their best. The little ones are meticulously groomed and the women are modestly adorned with either a single string of pearls accompanied with a brooch, or white gloves. Those who stray away from this rule are strategically hidden in the last rows.
Infighting, resentment, betrayal, and buried secrets keep them at odds for 364 days of the year. But on portrait day, there is a ceasefire and grimaces are replaced by the forced smiles of a proud family, even if only once a year.
© LaRonda Moore
Inspired by FFfAW Challenge #108.
Photo courtesy of Louise with The Storyteller’s Abode.