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The Secret IngredientThe Secret Ingredient

 “Mom, is dinner ready yet?”

 “Why don’t you play in your room first?”

 Again.

 “Mom, is dinner ready yet?”

 “You already asked that, sonny.  And I barely just started five minutes ago,”

 Shouting this time.

 “Mom!”

 “Not yet, darling.”

 Begging.

 “Mom, I’m starving.”

 “Almost finished, honey.”

 The boy went to the kitchen for the second time and saw tears on his mother’s face.

 “Mom.”

 “Here, darling.  It’s your favourite.”

 She served a bowl of por
The ChalkboardWe had a chalkboard on the back wall of our kitchen. It was green with a wood trim and big like a front door. It did more harm than good I think.

I was nine and my big sister seventeen. Every morning we ate breakfast together across from each other and it was usually the only time I saw her.

Every morning mom wrote a new word from the dictionary on it. Winsome. Subliminal. Inept. The word in red chalk and the definition in cursive white. Every morning a new word was there, under the Maxim — a short, pithy statement expressing a general truth or rule of conduct — mom made up and taped onto the top of the board.

The Early Learner
Like Only the Stars are Watching Mr. Glenn’s wife died the day before last. Of course, now all their children could talk about was what she would have wanted.

“She would want a proper burial,” Gary, the eldest, said.

“In the cemetery at Memorial Park,” Martin said.

Gary shook his head. “Much too crowded there. She wouldn’t want to knock elbows with anyone. She would prefer be buried in the Green Meadows Cemetery.”

“No,” Lisa Marie said, slapping her hand against Mr. Glenn’s antique table. “She wouldn’t want a grave. If she was here, she’d tell us to cremate her and spread her ashes a
Old Man Does CareFaust looked at his mother and father as they walked around in their skins with his siblings. He sighed lightly as he saw his mother and father banter about then his brothers’ start rough housing. It always made his mother happy when they were like that and Faust would join them he wasn’t as strong as the other boys and even is tiny sister could beat him but he didn’t mind. He liked play fighting with them but it never was his thing exactly. He rather be out and about exploring and finding gems and metals his siblings could use to make things, and basically exploring and recording what he found. He looked up again to see his
Sparrow and swanBrooklyn, New York. 5:00 PM. September, 1993

“Who was she?”

Tobias started, turning to see Eleanor standing at the bedroom door. The old photograph album was shoved roughly into the bedside nightstand as he stood. He should have heard or smelled his wife come inside the apartment but he had been distracted with his memories. Rose or Raisa as she’d preferred to be called, laughing at something he’d said. Another memory of her leaning over the counter of an old bookshop and a third, the color of her hair. That indeterminate shade between brown and red. “No one.”

“Someone, I think.” Eleanor bent
True love crumblesTrue love crumbles

I'm so sorry...

Once upon a time, a time when a French criminal accused of murder ran away to the UK, after selling his soul to the demons for a new life, he ran into the town preacher's daughter, a woman with beautiful wheat-golden blonde hair, her eyes green like a shamrock from Ireland, her smile was one that could make the angels jealous. Her name was Fionna, who always smiled from the bottom of her heart, she could truly love this ex-convict from the bottom of her heart.

Days turned into months, the two went from lovers to husband and wife, but even the husband knew demons would come for him or Fionna sooner or late
i am coldBoy, he was angry. Angrier than his daddy when he yelled on the home phone and his voice went through the entire house. He wasn’t angry because he was yelling on the phone – he wasn’t allowed to use the phone – but because he was losing. To a girl.

His stomach churned, his fists balled up and he thrust his chest out, taking a gulp of air too big for his tiny lungs. He was holding back a scream, a curse. At least, he would be if he knew what to say without being mistaken as a bad sport.

Sally Conners, all done up in dresses by Mrs. Conners every morning, gave him a smug look before dropping her weapon of choice on the
Drabble: Inimical Avengeance“Got mommy issues?” Kaiji questioned facetiously.
Maintaining a stoic, if slightly peeved demeanor, Ritsuko refused to break eye contact. She couldn’t help but face withering under the wild look in Kaiji’s eyes.
“Come on Ritzy,” challenged Kaiji, sounding thoroughly unimpressed.  Ritsuko heard just enough detached condescendence to keep her blood boiling. “Seems you thought I wouldn’t find you out sooner or later.”
“You didn’t find anything out,” Ritsuko snapped.
“I caught you.”
“I tried fixing your toilet because I felt remorse.”
“Or chic
Closing DoorsPeople always talk about doors.
ones that open
ones that close.
I've always heard that when one door closes, another opens up.

But, what if there are no doors?
What if, when one thing in life ends, it's just one less option.
That would make a lot more sense.
Our options in life are pretty extensive.
They seem to go off in every direction.
When one option doesn't work out, we can turn to a million more.
But they're always there. Nothing opens up.

This "opening" is the good thing that everyone points out.
When you don't get a job,
When you break up,
When anything doesn't work out.
Well, you still have this new option to look at!

But
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Just Wait 'til Your Father Gets Home

:icontestzero:

When I was 6 months old, I spilled oatmeal on the dog. When I wondered if I was going to get in trouble, Mom frowned and said "Just wait 'til your father gets home."

When I was 1 year old, I stood up and walked for the first time. When I worried I would fall, Mom smiled and said "Just wait 'til your father gets home."

When I was 2 years old, I made artwork on the wall. When I wanted to show her, Mom frowned and said "Just wait 'til your father gets home."

When I was 3 years old, I colored inside all the lines. When I wanted to put it on the fridge, Mom smiled and said "Just wait 'til your father gets home."

When I was 6 years old, I said a very bad word. When I asked if I would be spanked, Mom frowned and said "Just wait 'til your father gets home.

When I was 8 years old, I got straight A's at school. When I wanted a reward, Mom smiled and said "Just wait 'til your father gets home."

When I was 10 years old, I got in a fight with another boy. When I said I was sorry, Mom frowned and said "Just wait 'til your father gets home."

When I was 13 years old, I kissed a girl at school. When I was embarrassed, Mom smiled and said "Just wait 'til your father gets home."

When I was 15 years old, I had a naughty magazine. When I tried to hide it, Mom frowned and said "Just wait 'til your father gets home."

When I was 18 years old, I passed my driving test. When I hoped for a car, Mom smiled and said "Just wait 'til your father gets home."

When I was 19 years old, I got in a car accident. When I tried to apologize, Mom frowned and said "Just wait 'til your father gets home."

When I was 21 years old, I got a very good job. When I longed for recognition, Mom smiled and said "Just wait 'til your father gets home."

When I was 24 years old, I got married and moved to the city. Mom cried and said "Thank your father before you go."

When I was 25 years old, my son spilled oatmeal on the dog.

I was home.
:icontestzero:
This idea came to me while walking today. Imagine each line on a different page, like a children's book, accompanied with a picture.
:iconkotaro316:
~Kotaro316 Jan 23, 2013
Nicely done.
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