Daily Prompt: Take a subject you’re familiar with and imagine it as three photos in a sequence. Tackle the subject by describing those three shots. (Another tough prompt but I’m ready to tackle this one).
Let me paint you a little picture. It’s Sunday afternoon, the apartment’s quiet. On the dining room table, books are scattered everywhere while a woman is typing away on her laptop.
In the bedroom, books also scattered on the floor and on the bed. A man typing feverishly at the desktop computer. Finally, in another bedroom, a small girl is wearing an expensive stereo headphone that is plugged into her digital piano. Her eyes are darting from the black and white keys to the notes on the staff paper. Then she saw…
He stands by his bedroom door, hands threw up triumphantly. “I am done.” He says.
She stands before him. “Okay, very good. Now do just one more assignment.”
“Later,” he replies. “The game’s on.”
She shakes her head, “No, you’ll forget later. It will be quick, come on.”
He stands inches from her face, his right hand firmly grips her shoulder. She’s in pain. He snarls. “Why are you so controlling? Why can’t you just let me complete my homework in my own time instead of in your time?”
“I am trying to help you. I am trying to help you pass the class.”
“It’s not your job to do that. You’re my wife, not my mother. It is your job to cook, clean, and do the laundry.”
A small girl stands in the background, watching helplessly as the man’s lifting a suitcase over his head as another suitcase suspends in mid-air. Her arms are extended while screaming “No!” but not loud enough.
Her mother, not much bigger than herself falls as a 26-inch suitcase impacts with her while the man, her step-father, grinned viciously. It’s not over, his expression speaks.
I wish we could use more than three shots. I don’t claim to be an expert with this subject, it’s just something I’ve come face-to-face with many times. This eventually led to my meetings with a psychiatrist years later because it’s been something I haven’t been able to forget.
I guess now that I’ve written it down, I no longer have to hold it in me. I guess now my thoughts are in the air.