Six [link]
The Other Sister
It wasn’t quite the same thing as listening to the oompah band Onkle Oskar played in, but Elsa was determined to enjoy the afternoon anyway.
What she really wanted to do was join the other couples dancing in the warm afternoon sunshine. Underneath her primly pressed skirt her shoes kept time along with the accordion, and she smiled as if Gerd weren’t sitting right next to her yet completely oblivious.
It didn’t matter how carefully she dressed her hair, or how pleasantly she laughed. Her husband would spend the entire afternoon wishing he’d married the other sister.
Seven [link]
He’d just gotten this camera, and he was as excited as a little kid with a new train set.
All us kids posed for him in turn. Moving us around to the angle he preferred. Twisting the lampshade slightly to make sure the shadow fell just where it should.
He was creating his own perfectly composed world. No job at the garage that left him with hands so rough Mom wouldn’t let him touch her. No sickly son who wasn’t going to live out the summer.
No daughter staring from the half shadow plotting escape.
Unfortunately, eventually you have to pull the shutter, and the picture changes.
God, I'm bleak. Who knew?
These drabbles are really good for me to write. I'm a little surprised by what comes out sometimes.
I should learn to trust my writing voice more.
Number Eight [link]
Going Home
She’d been making this trip for eight months. When spring had started she had enjoyed the trip down from Rome: watching trees bud with life, the sprouting wheat, life burgeoning in the pastures. It was a joy to see her sister thriving in the little cottage outside Pompeii.
Now, she was going down to bring Rossana home. The baby was going to a nice couple in Naples, they owned a little pastry shop in the Piazetta Marinelli. They were grateful that their childless state was ended. Emilia hated them. They had the baby and all Rossana had was a casket.
