Sentences Series: I want ice cream! 

I asked some friends to write the first sentence of a story and I would finish the rest. This is a part of my sentences series. 

“I want ice cream!” Sofia could hear the demand coming from behind her. She turned and saw a little girl with her blonde pigtails swinging as she stomped her feet, “I said, I want ice cream!” 

Everyone at the bus stop looked at the nervous father holding his daughter’s pink unicorn backpack, sweat dripped around his temples. The little girl’s eyes were closed tight to avoid the judgmental looks. She continued to stomp her feet. Her father leaned forward, “Sweetie, we got you ice cream remember you dro-dropped your cone?” The father twisted the backpack strap in his hand. The strap was sweaty from his grip, the little girl let out a scream. Everyone averted their eyes, trying to give the man’s wounded pride a bit of privacy.

“Okay, okay, we’ll get you another. What would you like sweetie?” The little girl stopped her stomping and opened her eyes she was still visibly upset. An older Latina woman at the bus stop turned in shock to the man. Sofia caught her look and quickly searched down the street for the bus. She didn’t know whether she wanted it to come or delay. What would this woman say? Luckily, Sofia didn’t have to wait too long. In a thick Spanish accent the women bellowed, “Oh no sir! I can’t believe it. This not okay. She no supposed to treat you like this.” The man looked up as if realizing for the first time he was at a bus stop, a public bus stop. He looked around at the group waiting for the bus but they all shied their eyes away.

The man stood up straight and looked over to the woman, his anger was rising to the surface. ”Excuse me, but why don’t you mind your business! At what point was anyone talking to you?” Sofia’s eyes widened the fact that she didn’t have cable in her apartment made moments like this priceless. The bus was pulling up and Sofia felt a rush of panic, please say something, she thought as she watched the woman. The bus was starting to load, the Latina woman went tight lipped for a moment finally she said, Like a father, like a daughter.

Sentences Series: Women uplifting other women

I asked some friends to write the first sentence of a story and I would finish the rest. This is a part of my sentences series.

There is nothing more beautiful than women uplifting other women, Georgina thought as she bought a hand stitched purse from a woman off Etsy. She was sitting in her cubical at work, she leaned back feeling accomplished. It was a pretty slow day in the office.

The insurance business wasn’t really a chaotic one. Georgina closed her eyes but could hear Ramona in the cube in front of her. “I think I screwed up,” Ramona whispered into her phone. Georgina could always hear Ramona, even if she thought she was whispering her voice was firmly set on loud. Georgina leaned forward to listen, “I don’t know. It’s just been a mess lately. Jeff left last week, we haven’t really talked.” Ramona sniffled as she talked. Georgina thought it was weird, Jeff was their manager and he had gone on vacation with his wife and kids last week.

She had an idea that Ramona wasn’t bringing in more accounts for a couple of months now. Ramona would always come in twenty minutes late and run out fifteen minutes early to catch a train. Georgina was surprised Ramona still worked there. “It only happened once but he won’t talk to me about it. I don’t know what to do. I’d quit but if I do I’ll have to tell Dylan.” Georgina’s sat up, Dylan was Ramona’s boyfriend. Her mind started to race. What am I listening to? Did they sleep together? But Jeff is married, how could Ramona do that! She is so disrespectful, what was she thinking? She is going to get fired! Georgina’s mind stopped. She is going to get fired. 

It slowly crept up on Georgina, Ramona didn’t act alone, what would happen to Jeff. She logged on to Facebook, she didn’t even have to search for Jeff’s name, there was a post from twenty minutes ago of him and his wife both smiling. The Jamaican sun had made both of them shimmer. “I can’t tell him. I don’t know how.” There were ruffling sounds coming from Ramona’s Kleenex box. Georgina thought of Dylan, she had only met him at a few work parties but he seemed nice, a little too good looking for Ramona. How could she screw that up? “I have to go. We can just talk later ok.” Georgina could hear the phone click and Ramona got up and walked toward their break room.

Georgina had a moment of panic she wanted to tell Ramona that they’re both to blame and that she shouldn’t let one slip up disrupt her work.  She popped her head out but there was still no sign of Ramona. Georgina kept pacing until she caught Ramona walking into her cubical. They were not the best of friends, Georgina was two years younger than Ramona and they didn’t have much in common. Ramona was short and curvy with strawberry blonde hair. She was a self-described nerd with a different book every week. She would prop it up on her desk and read during lunch. Georgina was tall and slender her brown straight hair hit her shoulders. She was twenty-two and still a little flat chested. Her main goal with this job was to get a breast augmentation. The two locked eyes, Ramona’s looked wounded. “Yes?” Ramona asked in an annoyed tone. “Listen, I-I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but,” Georgina was looking at her hands she twisted her lip and continued, “I just want you to know that if you slept with Jeff. You know, it’s um on both of you guys. You know you shouldn’t be worried about losing your job.” Ramona rolled her wet eyes, ”huh,” she sarcastically smirked. “It wasn’t consensual.” 

Sentences series: It was purple

I asked some friends to write the first sentence of a story and I would finish the rest. This is a part of my sentences series.

It was purple! Jenny yelled from her room. She was hoping her mom would find her purple fuzzy hair tie. It was the first day of first grade.  Jenny was excited to see her new school but mostly to show off the new clothes her mom bought her. Jenny’s mom had taken a third job that summer, something Jenny didn’t know. She just spent more time with her Tia Lucy. 

“I got it!” Her mom rushed into Jenny’s room. She chased Jenny around trying to pull her hair into a pony tail as Jenny rummaged through her clothes. “Stay still.” Jenny’s mom pulled her daughter back. “Okay, you’re done, what are you gonna wear mija?” Jenny’s mom looked at her daughter wearing white high top converse, purple socks, a black tutu and pink t-shirt. “This!” Jenny popped out her leg and arm, putting her outfit on full display. Jenny’s mom rolled her eyes, “Ugh, just brush your teeth! We have to go.” Jenny’s older brother came in and shoved her as he walked, “She means to brush your tooth, chimuela.” Jenny shoved back as she walked toward the bathroom.

She grinned into the mirror, she had lost a lot of teeth lately. She only had one front tooth visible. She brushed that tooth carefully as it was loose too. She looked over herself in the mirror. She moved her hands near her breasts. “What are your doing chimuela?” Her brother was standing in the door way. “One day I’m gonna have boobs!” She giggled. “Do you think you’ll have teeth too?” Her brother snarked.

Jenny’s mom piled the two into their small hatchback the motor was giving her trouble but after a few attempts the car rattled on. They drove for a half hour before pulling up to a simple white building with kids running around on the astro turf. Wow, Jenny thought, she looked over all the kids wondering who would be her friends. When she stepped out of the car she made a run for it, only to be called back by her mother. She had left her lunch behind. Jenny was too late to play, all the teachers were lining up their kids outside. 

She took a place in Mrs. Rose’s line. A little girl stood in front of her, she was more petite than Jenny. She had short brown curly hair adorned with a pink bow. “Hi!” Jenny said, the little girl turned around her blue eyes dared not blink she didn’t want to let the water run out. “Hi,” she responded in a soft tone. “I’m Jenny, what’s your name?” The little girl tilted her head and looked Jenny over. “I’m Michelle. I like your purple fuzzy.” The little girl pointed up smiling to Jenny’s purple hair tie.

Our City

Second city, let them,

those who cannot put their fists in front of their faces

who speak in bullshit tongues

a language not translated here

stay where they dwell

We know full well

big shoulders

cannot be bought in some

Disneyland neighborhood

They must be earned

Through tremoring hands

Emptied malort bottles

Having the Sweetness sucked out

like venom

We a rebellious town

Unions on march

Teachers leaving desks

Trying to save a city distressed

Asking for respect

From men

Bent, bribed and broken

Pockets filled with coin

From a greased faced men

Reaching inside themselves for overtime

Labored hands protesting “no more.”

Pleading instead to be wrapped around a pole

on an el heading to a bar or home

a face begging to be rinsed and relaxed

one amongst a crowd

a face that can belong to

a man

a woman

Everyone on the move trying to make it through

The winter

The traffic

The screw you we feel with the increase of tax

Lets face facts

Chicagoland

Built on the backs of the 4amers

The immigrant bricklayer

Its built by mothers

Who demand investment in their children's schools

Built by mothers

Who have grown sick and tired of their

neighborhoods

Defunded, disregarded and discouraged by those men whose children never had to worry on their way home

By those men weak and small who do not visit these neighborhoods

By those men who are keeping it all

Watching black and brown

neighborhoods fall

Gun violence they say

It’s a problem they say

Stay off the streets they say

It’s not front page news they say

slapping sports teams on the front page

It’s been a hundred years they say

Instead they quietly close more schools

Siting low attendance

Meanwhile driving down the street there are class fulls of crosses

 

We a trump free zone

 

Why do we need more corrupt politicians

We have our own

Our town

We

the millennial rarely spoken of

the work horses

the teachers

the cement mason

the ones raised here

the ones who will continue to carry this city

our city

On our backs

Giving back to the communities

Holding politicians accountable

Try as you might

You cannot chop us down

We are a home grown solution

To your poli-tic pollution