writing challenge

March Writing Challenge Days 9 and 10: “Trudge On” and “Family Dinner”

Prompt for March 11, 2017: Absolute threshold is a term in perceptual psychology to describe the smallest level of energy required by an external stimulus to be detectable by the human senses, including vision, hearing, taste, smell and touch. For example, the absolute threshold of vision is the light of a single candle held 30 miles away from the eye, in complete darkness, after having adjusted to the dark. Write something about the absolute threshold of sight.

Trudge On by R.C.

.

Two moons ago

Half a lifetime ago

The last time she saw them.

.

Last she remembered

A long car ride

Stuffed in a crate

She could smell but not see

Seized by the scruff of her neck

Strewn out onto the road

And he drove away

She ran, ran fast after

But not fast enough.

.

Pitch black trees teeming

With the chatter of midnight bugs

The sound, but not the sight

Of padded feet on ground around her.

No moonlight; a new moon

No light at all.

.

Perpetually parched

Fur matted, paws bloody

She trudges on

The faint trail of scent

Signifying something, someone

Gives her hope

That she might be going the right way.

.

Did they miss her?

Did they love her?

…Did they even still remember her?

.

Looking up, she stops

She is trekking down a hill

But amid the pure darkness

Across the vast valley

She sees a tiny flickering light.

 

She trudges on.

~ ~ ~

Prompt for March 12, 2017: “And that’s what happens when you’re raised by pirates.”

“Family Dinner” by Rachel Cernosek

My parents never came to anything I did.

No band concert, no soccer game, no open house night at school.

It was always hard to tear my stare away from my peers and their parents, flanking them, all laughs and smiles and good grades.

I guess it was hard to look away because I wished I knew what it was like.

It was also hard to know what to say when forms asked for a “parent’s contact.”

I’d contemplated being silly and listing the jailhouse address and phone number, but I never did. It was always just my aunt’s information instead.

No family dinners happened in the house I lived. Aunt Pam would make food for two, but we ate in our perspective rooms.

What would it be like to eat a family dinner around the table every night?

Sometimes, I imagined being able to talk to them. It was possible… Through a glass, from two separate rooms, over a phone.

But they wanted nothing to do with me.

All they wanted was riches and fortune.

Two-hundred thousand illegal movies, pristine quality, are circulating the internet, are being traded and sold across the country.

All due to their massive black market industry.

It’s a pretty lonely life, when your parents aren’t around, or don’t so much as even make the effort to call.

But that’s what happens when you’re raised by pirates.

~ ~ ~

Thank you for reading! Don’t forget to check out my friend Taylor’s writing entry for this same prompt at her blog! If you would like emailed updates from my blog, please scroll to the top of this page (or go to my homepage) and press the “+Follow” button at the bottom right of your screen to enter your email address. Don’t forget about my bullet journal and hobbies Instagram account, also called turbulentrhapsodies, to see all of my creative and academic endeavors!

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