Do not growl” She snaps at her protruding belly. “How cruel an empty pocket can be? It can’t even weight a petty cent and drools over a loaf of bread.”

I wish I could feed her” She smirks at her torn pocket. “oh! how poor it could be? Can’t even bothered to be empty like me, like her?”

” How can that person have a tons of cash? he has a credit card too. I can’t take it away and run. I don’t have shoe + my feet is on a peak of blisters. I can’t take it away and whistle like nothing happened. They will point out on my shabby make up I’m putting on. what shall I do? she is freaking out more than me” She caresses the belly.

wait, I have a magnet. It pulls in the thing I’m staring at- his money, a loaf of bread.”
Suddenly her hand loses the grip and the magnet drops in.

No magnet doesn’t attract such flashy things. Such an idiot I’m. He taught me about the Magnet, magnetic Field that day. That day when I crumpled the bed sheets while he enjoyed the singular feast I resisted. They said it should be beautiful. But it was not. it was not..”
She cries her dirt off
Everything that’s unusual, he comes off with my grave in
she sets her foot in and crumples the magnet.
“I need to feed her”


When he hates poetry

He laments disguised words in a morning newspaper. So, he often rolls them up and bounces into grounded basket. And I had made my mind to paste my piece of paper underneath bed sheets or kitchen tunnel, he would never turned in for. I guess, my pen can live without ink.

When he is into uncomplicated news stories, I must find shovel and draw a hollow near his home. I know, he is slow, even with simple stories. Sigh! I can take my things slow too. Poor at drawing- I think I won’t match an exact circular hollow, an ink is thinking off it. However, it must rest in there, warming up with heaps of mud, shovel scattered.

He is calling me. Perhaps, he is finished with morning read.

“where were you?” he sniffs around and leans closer to me “you smell like an ink. I had never thought if anyone could  leave impression of ink and you do.”

“I was preparing tea, but I could not figure out where the packet of sugar was. I ended up checking it store room.  You know what that room smells like?” Is that a best lie I could come with?

“I know” he grins and kisses my forehead. ” You might have encountered a bottle of ink in one of your drawer”

“How.. do you? know?” I stammer on his truth

“Cause, you always smell like this” he cuffs his arms behind my back and sniffs closely on my neck.”I am hooked to it” he inhales again.

“I thought you hate it” he is way too warm there.

“I do” I can feel his lips protruding on my shoulder.






You look like your Dad

Mom! That old hag coat is protruding. Have you seen that?

Mom! Mamma! Mamma! Mom!” He lets out a big sigh

“Why do you resemble your Father” She adds another sigh and the entire house dance on the silence. She taps on the wooden floor, pokes the pocket of old hag coat.“Nothing” Temporary air escape immediately as it has been caught for trespassing.

“I thought you had choked the money on there. I was dreaming to be served at that fancy restaurant my friend brag about” He cries out the ceiling. ” Why don’t you clutch me and choke me to the death” She paints the wood with her nails

“I don’t have nail like yours” he watches the wood.

Borrow mine”

“Is that Possible?

Mom! Let me grow my nails each months passes by. I’ll stitch the cents in there, on my nails and nudge that pocket with it. So, don’t throw my old hag. If I look like him, why don’t you owe me like you should. You loved Dad. Nanny told me

“Because, You look like your Dad” She rolled as tears on the peak of her nose

Substandard; Daily Prompt