Prompt Word: Present- Title- Promises and Hoop Skirts
Written for Week 6 the 10 Minute Writing Challenge at hitRECord
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The doorknob is cold beneath her sweaty palm and her mother's voice echoes endlessly.
"Present, baby girl. Be ever present."
She remembers that moment. She remembers it better than she even remembers her own name. The soft swishing of the skirt as it brushed the floor as her mother knelt down beside her. The paper thin skin of the hands that cradled her face. She remembers the love. She remembers.
Under the harsh light of choice. Under the pressing weight of actually being asked to jump, she finally starts to remember clearly.
She sees everything she missed before. The fraying, dusty hem of her mother's hoop skirt. The fingerprint bruises that circled her wrists. The dark twist in her voice. The sound that made her words become a plea.
A promise she had never been told she made. To jump with her eyes open. To hold tight to the things that brought beauty. To love with her whole body. To ever be the girl that lets life spark off of her fingertips. To be the girl that would always turn the doorknob regardless of what laid on the other side. To be the girl, the woman, the partner and the person that her mother could never be.
All those years ago, she had made a promise.
The doorknob is cold beneath her sweaty palm and her mother's voice echoes endlessly.
"Present, baby girl. Be ever present."
**
**
The doorknob is cold beneath her sweaty palm and her mother's voice echoes endlessly.
"Present, baby girl. Be ever present."
She remembers that moment. She remembers it better than she even remembers her own name. The soft swishing of the skirt as it brushed the floor as her mother knelt down beside her. The paper thin skin of the hands that cradled her face. She remembers the love. She remembers.
Under the harsh light of choice. Under the pressing weight of actually being asked to jump, she finally starts to remember clearly.
She sees everything she missed before. The fraying, dusty hem of her mother's hoop skirt. The fingerprint bruises that circled her wrists. The dark twist in her voice. The sound that made her words become a plea.
A promise she had never been told she made. To jump with her eyes open. To hold tight to the things that brought beauty. To love with her whole body. To ever be the girl that lets life spark off of her fingertips. To be the girl that would always turn the doorknob regardless of what laid on the other side. To be the girl, the woman, the partner and the person that her mother could never be.
All those years ago, she had made a promise.
The doorknob is cold beneath her sweaty palm and her mother's voice echoes endlessly.
"Present, baby girl. Be ever present."
**