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Thanksgiving: writing prompt, short storie
Posted by Half-lit, Oct 28, 2008. 990 views. ID = 1944

Thanksgiving

Posted by Half-lit, Oct 28, 2008. 990 views. ID = 1944
This post was written in 9 minutes.
I made a maistake and put a poem in the writing prompt... oops!
This post has been awarded 13 stars by 3 readers.

It is 6pm and I am sitting at the table impatiently, waiting for the feast to begin. I can just taste it now, the candied yams with marshmallows on top, and the fresh green beans that are smothered in butter, bunched in the old white ceramic dish Grandma had. The Carrots and the mashed potatoes that send warm smells to my belly makes me revel in hopes of being full and yet, the kitchen isn’t bustling with commotion, there is no warmth, nor smell coming from the oven. The taste in my mouth is sour and dry as I lick my chapped lips savoring the dust that circles me. As though a veil is raised I find my self back in my house, by my self. My faithful friend (a warn and tattered blanket from my childhood) sits beside me, comforting me with its presence.

My Thanksgiving dinner comes to me via a lukewarm, dented up tin can of Corn. Sitting “Indian style” in same clothing I wore last month and barely able to scoop the bits of old corn from the can, a truck thunders by shaking the dust from the cardboard that I reside in. It is dusk and getting darker and colder out now and the only light I have to live by stands fifty feet above me on the overpass.

The leaves begin to bustle outside as though the wind were walking through them. Moments pass as I catch my self staring into space, not really thinking but just living, in my solitude.
I pull the cap on my head down further as the winds howl and enter my space, sending a chill through my skin. I stuff my friend inside my woolen jacket to keep him out of harms way and to help keep myself warm. Throwing my “Thanksgiving Dinner” out the backdoor with the rest of the tins I turn over in hopes of getting some sleep before I get ousted by the Police at daylight.

My thoughts go back and forth as I fight the streams of vehicles overhead and after a while they begin to lull me to sleep as I slowly find comfort lying on my side. Cold from the concrete below the multiple layers of cardboard slowly trickle through tainting my skin and comfort.
Thankful that I have a friend that has been there for me through it all and to keep me warm, I fall asleep and the Turkey tastes the same as I remember it and my belly is full once more till I wake in the morning.





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This post has been awarded 13 stars by 3 readers.

Comments


Douglas
Oct 29, 2008
Nicely done. :) By the way, if you haven't noticed it, last Winter we had a week in which the writing prompt was about what it would be like to be homeless at Christmas. You might find that interesting, as this follows a similar theme.
   ~Posted by Douglas, Oct 29, 2008



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