Black Lives Matter
“Go on,… it’s just above you”
The words were a gentle whisper, a breath caressing the young woman’s ear. She could hear the tittering laughs of others around her, a ribbon of muslin tied tight over her eyes.
She rose to the tips of her toes and her fingers brushed something warm. She chased to grasp it, her foot twisting: her body falling to the ground. There was a gasp.
“It’s alright” the girl said as she slipped off the blindfold.
The eyes of the other slaves were fixed on the open door.
“I’m,… sorry Misses. We were just playing,…”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Stelios Kazazis via Unsplash.
My word today was “Pantry” – what story would you write if that was the word you were given? That’s the challenge: you have 100 words with “Pantry” as your title. Write it, link it back to me and let’s see what you can do!
Today’s word was donated by Nthato Morakabi, a fellow short story writer and journalist from Sunny South Africa. You can find out more about him at http://nthatomorakabi.com/.
“Hey man, do I need to be wearing these?!”
Michael rose his arms to display thin plastic strips digging into his wrists.
“Pipe down, Jones. You got a time out and you take it – or do you want to go back to your cell?”
Michael Jones blew in frustration, dropping his hands to his lap and thudding the back of his head to the wall. Through the thick glass of the door he watched as orange-clad men fed metal strips into presses, their heads bent low.
The lines were long: the penance unending.
“No Sir,” Michael sighed. “I do not.”
(c) Tim Austin. Image by Miguel A Ramirez via Unsplash.
Not being political, not being political, not being political,………
My generous thanks to long-time follower and supporter of the OWOS project Sarah Doughty of Heartstring Eulogies. Check out her poetry here – I can’t recommend it highly enough.
If you enjoyed this or any other OWOS stories, be sure to like and share!
The flames lapped at the wood and circled in the thinning air. A large crowd was watching as the fire danced and swelled, entranced by the hypnotic sweep of the blaze.
Music was playing loud and children were dancing. Cold boxes filled with beer gleamed in the firelight. The field was full of people talking and laughing together as the last rays of the day sank below the horizon.
The sheriff stepped forward, his hand lifting a microphone to continue his speech.
“Black Lives Matter, they say,…..” The crowd was laughing.
The children played and watched the white crosses burn.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Thomas Shellberg via Unsplash.
The first image that came to mind with this word was the KKK. It is a stain on humanity that this group still exists and that any group like this still exists. But it does and it’s worth remembering that, in these dark times. Humanity still has a long way to go,….
I’m still on the search for new words! If you’re reading this and you want to suggest one, please do! Just pop it in the comments or Tweet it to @ using the hashtag #onewordonestory.
See you tomorrow for “Fragile”.