Only the stickies speak louder than him. Fenêtre on the window. Lumiére on the lamp. Her room is a rolling patchwork farmland. A faraway world that’s not far enough.
“Pou-pee? Sounds like shit-piss.” He aims the doll at her blanketed head. Once, he wore Monstre for a whole afternoon, but that’s a word even he can translate.
The dictionary’s spine has started to crack. A dime at the yard sale and she still had to steal. He flusters its ashes into her face, “Enjoy your flam-bay, baby.”
Liberté on the door, a yellow sticky—the liveliest color to leave behind.
very beatiful
Beautiful work, with vivid imagery!
Thank you Teddy!
Brava!
Thank you!
Very enjoyable read.
Thank you S.E.!
Gorgeous piece. Wonderful use of imagery and language.
Thank you Nicholas!
This is wonderful
Je suis d’accord
Thank you (et merci) Jamie and Amelia!