On Wednesdays, Delores, from Under The Porch Light, has a word challenge meme which she calls “Words for Wednesday”.
She puts up a selection of six words which we then use in a short story, or a poem.
I’m hopeless at poetry so I always do a story.
It’s a fun challenge…why not join in?
This week's words are:
or: "we who sleep....dream....wait....'neath marble slabs and blowing grass"
I have no idea what to do with that phrase, so I've chosen to use just the words.
Here is my story:
After Craig's death, I'd applied for employment at several job agencies and taken the first position offered. We needed the money. There was rent to be paid as well as living expenses for myself and the boys. I'd been working extra hours learning the ropes, so we'd been eating out a lot and the budget had taken quite a lot of punishment as a result.
But I had the job well in hand now and was able to cut back on the overtime as I'd learned to balance out the multi-tasking needed to oversee the different types of paperwork that came across my desk.
For several weeks now, we'd been eating the good plain food I'd cooked at home. Last night however, the boys, Angus and Rory, had said they were tired of the mundane peas and beans I'd been serving up with the chops at dinner. "I'm tired of chops too", said Rory, "can't we have something different?"
While shopping for groceries after work, I decided broccoli would make a nice change, along with sausages. With a few extra purchases, including cheddar and parmesan, plus an extra carton of milk to make cheese sauce, (always a favourite), bread for their school lunches, the total was a little more expensive than I'd hoped. A thorough search of every compartment in my wallet revealed a sad lack of ready cash, so I took out my debit card.
The cashier apologised for any inconvenience and told me the EFTPOS machines were not available for use right now as the bank was having some sort of system issues; she offered to hold my items while I found an ATM. I made my way out into the mall, found an ATM and inserted my card, keyed in my PIN and waited for the machine to dispense my chosen amount.
With the small amount in my wallet, I could have taken the boys to the usual fast food franchise, but we'd done that way too often for my liking in the weeks after Craig's funeral. I preferred the boys to eat my home cooking. It had disurbed me quite a bit to see how quickly they'd grown used to cheeseburgers and fries, even learning to order their own meals at the counter. At ages five and seven!
While I was proud of their confidence in being able to do this, even enjoying their lack of shyness, I still didn't want them growing up on burgers and fries.