Take the word “dream”. Just five letters long but it can cause one heck of a piece of trouble or be the source of such joy. Turn the word over and over in your mouth and listen to its sound. It’s a word that wants to continue. It doesn’t have a sudden stop the way some words do.
It tilts the imagination this way or that. Towards windmills or rabbit holes. It can recall sea chanties or stories of urchins on a street. It can drive one to take risks others won’t take and take up causes that might change the world.
head on the pillow
off to another country
Sometimes I wonder, “Do clothes have feelings?” It’s not the kind of wondering that keeps me awake at night but it’s still wondering. When I open the closet door, are the shirts calling out, “Pick me, pick me.” Does one of the pair of pants say, “Please don’t pick me. I’m not feeling well today.” Or “I’m not my best.” When Adam and Eve put on those first fig leaves, were the fig leaves talking back? Did Queen Elizabeth’s crown get tired of her complaining, “This thing is just too heavy.” Was the crown coming back with, “You’re queen now. Get over it.” The queen might have returned, “Well, it’s a rough job but somebody’s got to do it.”
slippers on the floor
waiting for my feet
what a lonely job
Short Story Prompt: “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been” by Joyce Carol Oates
Connie, just sixteen
And all the world before her,
Taken much too young.