The Space Between

”Faith from Ruin” last time ~ Graceful Kindness

“Good morning Mommy!” her tiny voice chimed. “Are you awake?”

Clara stretched and turned her head toward her daughter. A laugh caught in her yawn “I am now. Let’s get dressed and go see Miss Ida.”

“For cookies?”

“I don’t know Button. It’s rude to ask, but if she offers, sure.”

After showers and some much needed girl primping, they slipped on light jackets against the brisk Northern air that blew in overnight. This time the office was warmly lit, and the door unlocked. Clara closer her eyes and breathed in the smell of fresh brewed coffee. She saw a beautifully set side table, resplendent with treats and delicate cups for coffee. She hadn’t noticed the welcoming warmth of the tiny lobby the night before.

“Clara! How wonderful. Did you and Lucy sleep well last night? Help yourself to a cup of coffee and a cookie.”

They stepped over to the table. Clara poured a cup of coffee and handed a cookie to Lucy and took one for herself.

“Ida, thank you so much for your kindness. Shall we get thing squared away?”

Waving her off Ida smiled wide and pooh-poohed, “Oh, pshh! I can see plain as day you need a place for a bit. Just fill out a room card and don’t even worry about the rest.”

Her eyes widened and filled she stammered, “I-I don’t know how you know, but I-I can’t thank you enough.”

She turned away, sniffled swiping at her eyes. “Um, can you tell me where St. James Church is? I, um, well I need to find it.”

“Sure thing sweetie. Come look at the town map.”

Clara couldn’t explain why she trusted Ida completely, but she took her up on the offer to watch Lucy while she went to St. James. She parked her silver Malibu on the street in front of the church. The church was like a miniature Gothic cathedral, complete with a tower and steeply pitched roof which made it appear much taller. Her sneakers squeaked on the shiny marble floors. She dipped fingers into cool Holy water and blessed silently, Father-Son-Holy Spirit. She drifted forward quietly, slid into a pew, first seated on the cool oak then kneeling on sunken, well-worn kneelers.

The familiar comfort of echoes, and groans always found within sacred walls, eased her worries, walls where she felt safe from pain. Eyes closed she saw arms stretch out to her offering warmth and repose. She heard occasional quiet tap tap taps and kneelers creak as other mortals came and went.

Clara slowly calmed into steady tranquility as her internal conversation continued and the space between the turmoil of her flight, and the peace where her soul truth dwelt was bridged.

Write at the Merge-Week 36

This week at Write at the Merge we were given this for inspiration:

“This week, I’m going to ask you to write about the space between, the pause between two events using the following as prompts: Led Zepplin’s Ramble On or Dave Matthews Band ‘The Space Between’. I’m going to ask you to write about the space between, the pause between two events”

I’m a huge Dave Matthews fan back before they were big and touring all over the Northern US playing in small venues and stacking up fans. Of course, I chose The Space Between and lucky me, it is perfect for Faith from Ruin.

Photo of cookies and coffee provided lovingly by my dear friend Sharon. A piece of her heavenly home.

The Long Road

Last ”Faith from Ruin” installment — Evil Robots

The night and the road droned endlessly. She was surprised and thankful fatigue was no where near. The conversation with Shane had amped her, zapping away every drop of weariness she had felt before the nasty exchange. Thankfully, Lucy, who woke when she got back into the car, fell back asleep after a drink of water and Clara’s special lullaby.

Her wide-awake state, the emptiness of the road, and the quiet car gave her too much time in her own head. Her mind jumped from her anger and fear of Shane, to resentment and more anger toward her sister, then off to regret and self-loathing for falling for a jerk like Shane to begin with, then, the observations of everyone else. She didn’t want the judgmental brand “Abused Wife.” Rather if she were to be branded she would rather be judged “Survivor,” or”Savvy.”

Another four hours driving and pangs of hunger gnawed. She started to look for mile markers and signs for the next town. She watched for overpasses with off ramps where signs were often posted on the on ramp side. A few attentive miles paid off when a familiar box of green, numbers and letters like blinding beams announced 12 miles to Hamilton. She had no idea what to expect, but decided it was time for a break.

Fifteen minutes later, Clara drove into a little hamlet and passed a 24-hour Denny’s. Further on, a raucous, rowdy bar with the harmless, yet titillating name “Millie’s Tavern” slid past. She drove on and passed quiet storefronts and empty side streets. Other than Millie’s, Hamilton was the quintessential sleepy town. She turned around in the elementary school parking lot and headed back to Denny’s.

She parked and shut the car off. Her legs tingled and ears rang slightly from the absence of road noise. Lucy sat up, bleary eyed and disoriented.

“Mommy? Where are we?”

“Are you hungry Button? I’m starving! Let’s go have pancakes, OK?”

“Yay! With strawberries?”

“Absolutely.”

 

This time for Faith from Ruin, I’m giving you 330 words and I’m writing with inspiration from two different prompt, Trifecta and Write On Edge’s Write at the Merge. Can’t have a post without a good song to go with it. Sheryl Crow is an upbeat song but she talks about winding roads and faded signs, so hey, I made it work.

Trifextra: Week 91

Trifecta’s (post 33-333 words) word this week, third definition is:

BRAND (noun)
1a : a charred piece of wood
b : firebrand
c : something (as lightning) that resembles a firebrand
2: sword
3a (1) : a mark made by burning with a hot iron to attest manufacture or quality or to designate ownership
(2) : a printed mark made for similar purposes : trademark
b (1) : a mark put on criminals with a hot iron
(2) : a mark of disgrace : stigma <the brand of poverty

AND

Write at the Merge (a now defunct site) provided the photo “Millie’s Tavern” and a song by The Beastie Boys. I chose inspiration from the photo only. Post is to be done with a word limit of no more than 500 words.

Right is Right

Last  “Faith from Ruin” installment — One by One

Lucy skips down the sidewalk swinging her backpack. Clara smiled wishing for her carefree happiness. Reaching across the car she opens the door for her blonde haired, cornflower blue eyed daughter.

“Hey Pumkin! Didja have a good day?”

“Yep! Guess what? They painted hopscotches on the playground! and Millie and me found rocks and played again and again and again. It was so much fun but we wouldn’t let the boys play because boys aren’t good at hopscotch. I’m really really hungry can we go home and get a snack?”

Clara wondered if she was going to come up for air before she finished. “What a fun day! We aren’t going home right now. There’s a snack in the bag on the back seat.”

Lucy reached back and got fruit snacks and a juice box. “Where we goin’ Mommy?”

Before she could answer her iPhone rang and her sister WesLea’s retro Nancy Sinatra behive blonde haired image popped up on the screen. She knew where this would go. She left a voicemail for Wes hoping she would accept her decision to leave. As she pulled away from the curb she hit answer.

“Hey.”

“Clara, you are going to bring Lucy to mom’s before you leave. I called Mason and he’ll be there too. I don’t know why you’re doing this anyway. Mom’s heart will be broken and Shane deserves better than you just running away.”

“Wes, really? No. I’m not going to Mom’s. I don’t know why I called. What’s right is right, and Shane has had time to learn.”  She twisted the phone up and muttered “Stupid, stupid, stupid”

“What? Did you say something?”

“Just talking to Luce. No Wes. We’re packed and I’m heading out. Tell mom I love her.”

WesLea’s exaggerated exhale into to phone told Clara she had her jaw clenched and was rolling her eyes.

“Wes. I’m leaving.” and to pacify her “I’ll call as soon as we are ready to stop and let you know where we are.”

“You better! (another exaggerated exhale)  I’ll talk to you later.” and she hung up.

Clara, stopped at a traffic light, looked over at Lucy who was happily chewing her neon gummy snack and slurp sipping her apple juice.

“You ready for an adventure Lucy Moosey?”

Write at the Merge Week 29

I’m writing for Write on Edge’s Write at the Merge, Week 29 prompt.

“This week, we’re offering a photograph — feel free to use any or all of the items in the photo as part of the prompt. And a song, though you get bonus points for working Nancy Sinatra’s fabulous hair into your prompt response.”

I used the iPhone in the photo, the song and some of the lyrics as well as Nancy’s hairdo.