Hee. Sorry about that, Dana. Here's a sweet one.
partnership
Sixteen years old and away from home for the first time. Curled miserably in a blanket on the dorm lobby couch, she cried. He tucked her in, brought her Sprite and crackers, brushed a cool palm across her brow. "Strep, they said. Here, take your pills." Salt savory on her tongue.
Fourteen years later and worn by months of sickness. Curled miserably in a quilt on their living room couch, he closed his eyes. She tucked him in, brought him Sprite and crackers, smoothed his brow. "Strep, they said. Your shot will kick in soon." Bubbles cool in his throat.
You are all depressing the hell out of me.
looking at Dana's tagline
So write something perky, ma'am.
Anything food related would lead to New Orleans, which wouldn't be too perky.
I keep thinking about changing my tagline, but things keep sucking.
Halvah
Honey, sugar, sesame seed paste - usually something even a sweet lover like me ate in very small quanties. But days at the beach were different. Run along the sand for hours, swim along the shore for what seemed like miles. Play volleyball. By the time all that was finished a giant chunk hit in a pure rush of pleasure and returning energy.
I keep thinking about changing my tagline, but things keep sucking.
And there's a tagline, right there.
But yeah, point taken and nodded at, about the food. I don't understand the whole food as comfort thing, as stated in my first drabble: when I eat, it's for entirely different reasons. So any comfort was for another person, and that didn't work.
Not cheerful, no. But there you are. Shit keeps happening.
Signs cluster excitedly on street corners, planted like implausible flowers next to non-functioning stoplights: "Trash Removal!" "We Restore Old Photo's!" "50 Signs for $50!" It looks like Election Day, but instead of choosing your representative, you're electing people to help rebuild your life.
Nestled among the advertisements for contractors and demolition specialists are hand-lettered signs, like roses amid the dandelions. Supermarkets, family restaurants, bars, all announcing some variation of the same phrase.
We are open. We are here. This city is our home. Come to us and be fed. Break bread with your neighbors. Rejoice that you're alive and hungry.
(100 words)
oh Dana. that is beautiful
We are open. We are here. This city is our home. Come to us and be fed. Break bread with your neighbors. Rejoice that you're alive and hungry.
This broke me a little. Wonderful drabble, Dana.
What Lisah and AmyLiz said.
DAMN, Dana. Way to put your money where your mouth is. And now I want enough beignets to induce a sugar coma.
