Careless Wishers #TDWC

 

Today’s door was inspired by https://wheatsaltwineoil.wordpress.com/ and is, as Dan Antion would say, a ‘two-fer’.  How could I pass on his extension for the TDWC?  I am combining with Linda Hill’s #SoCS prompt which is left alone. 

The Careless Wisher

“Where are you going?”

her voice trailed.

“Anywhere but here!”

the small boy wailed.

“Be back before lunch,”

Mama called from inside

but he was seeking

somewhere to hide. 

No one ever listened,

they didn’t care.

He felt so ignored

by everyone there.

His brothers bossed him around,

 his fine treasures always found

by his whining little sister.

His small fists balled up,

tears streaming down his face,

“I want to be left alone,

I know that there’s a place!”

He turned towards the barn

but his father worked in there,

and Granny sat on the porch

in her favorite rocking chair.

The dogs were rolling in the dirt

in the middle of the drive,

and his favorite climbing tree

now housed a buzzing hive.

He stormed across the meadow 

and sat against a bale

of pungently golden hay,

unclenched his fists, exhaled.

“I want to be left alone,”

he mumbled 

to his shadow on the ground.

“In a place where I can hear myself 

and never will be found.”

He looked around.

It seemed there was no escape,

he shook his head.

That’s when he spotted

the paint and brushes by the shed.

Quickly he procured the lot,

then scoured the bale

for the perfect spot.

“Not in front-

 they’ll find me quick!”

He circled the bale

eight times to pick.

He dipped the old brush 

and sloshed on the paint,

then surveyed his work-

Well an artist I ain’t!”

Still it was a sufficient door-

of sorts.

He dropped the bucket 

and tossed the brush

then ran at the door 

with a sudden rush

of excitement.

There was no thud

as he expected

and the void of the bale

hungrily accepted

his wish.

He got to his feet,

enjoying the treat

of absolute silence.

When his eyes adjusted

to the minimal light

he was painfully aware

of his awkward new plight.

A simple path led into the dark

where he, alone, must face the stark

unknown.

Maybe the boys weren’t so bad

and his sister, his Mama, Granny and Dad

were now out of reach,

the boy started to screech.

“Help, I’m in here!”

He pounded his fists against the cold straw

that felt more like stone, his palms were raw.

He swiped at the tears

and began to pout,

“I’ll just have to paint

a new door out.”

The hammer of truth 

fell without sound.

“I’ve left the paint

and brush on the ground…”

(on the other side)

He looked at his hands,

and the trickles of blood,

he’d need more than that-

it would take a flood,

he wanted to shout!

He took a deep breath,

that careless wisher,

 stepped out on the path

and discarded his wrath.

“Maybe I’ll find

another way out.”

With hands in his pockets

he whimpered inside,

“I don’t want to be alone,”

he sniffed and cried

to the nothing that listened 

with out a sound

inside his careless wish, 

waiting to be found.

Cheryl Pennington 

Copyright 2023