Yawn
WOULD SHE HURT US? M. Nichols Joplin Community Bronze Fiction Short Story Mental illness is one of the most serious problems facing society today. It should be a high priority to provide more assistance to those on the frontlines of this issue. Nichols believes that words can change the world.
Crystal Witherspoon Carthage Crowder Bronze B&W Photography
sweet, blond, curious creatures. Emily silent ould she hurt us? The question but cooperative, following her sister as they reoccurred again and again. I explored. Having been in other foster homes pushed it away, down under the already in their young lives they were resilient, surface of my consciousness as I flexible. They came with their possessions futilely tried to find the relief that would come loosely packed in a broken suitcase, a few handfrom a peaceful night’s sleep. Just almost there, drifting, an image would burst forth - Emily, red me-down clothes, a few snap shots, matching purple stuffed dinosaurs faced, screaming, “I hate you! “A melting, a tumble, a flattened by hours of play and You’re not my mother!” The drawers crashed when she falling in love with the need abuse. Only minutes into the visit pulled them out of the chest and dumped the contents in them, their innocence, a question from Nora, “Can we call you Mommy?”. A melting, on the floor. Frantically the their trust. And I was a tumble, a falling in love next and the next and the with the need in them, their next until there were no hopelessly gone.” innocence, their trust. And I more drawers to be turned, was hopelessly gone. It was then the closet and the impossible not to invite them in - to my home, to clothing so carefully washed and hung were my family, to my heart. The first steps on a path flung off the hangers and on to the growing that would lead where? pile in the middle of the room. Rapid breathing, In the first months I was frequently startled staring, eyes full of hate, daring me to stop her awake in the night sensing a presence. When so that she would have an excuse to strike out and inflict pain, achieve revenge. I opened my eyes I saw Emily - sweet, solemn Push it away. She’s asleep. She’s got to sleep - almost an apparition, standing over my bed, wide eyes looking in to mine. too. Tomorrow will be better. My question, “Emily, what do you want?”, A more pleasant image surfaces. Emily and would be met with silence. I would get up Nora, two and three, the first time in our home,
W
Lucy, the bulldog, loves a good yawn. Nikon D7200, 1/250 sec., ISO 200, F5.6, 50 mm. Witherspoon stated, “I love the expressiveness of our bulldog, Lucy. She’s all heart and just loves her family. Her facial expressions keep us laughing. We just adore her!”
Roxanne Jessica Sellers Carl Junction Community Gold 2D Media Pastel This is a drawing dedicated to a wonderful dog I found while hunting for rocks. Sellers is an art teacher and an artist. Published previously in the Crowder Quill., she exhibits and sells her art in local and national venues.
and carry her back to her bed. She would go uncomplaining but then insist that I stretch out beside her and watch until her easy, gentle breathing told me that she was back asleep. Even then she was making demands. I roll over and readjust my head on the pillow. She will be up early. I have to be awake with her to protect the other children. Two days ago when I bent to pick up the favorite doll of our youngest child, seven years younger than Emily, the button eyes rolled off of the doll’s face. Cunningly, the eyes had been cut off then
laid back in position so that they would fall off when the doll was picked up. Repulsed but not surprised by the wickedness, the planning, the intent, the damage was quickly repaired. The youngest was spared - for now, until next time. There was a time when Emily would curl in to my arms, hug so tight, wanting boundless love and affection, demanding to be rocked, petted, sang to, held constantly and indefatigably, long after the other children had gone off to play, until I was nearly emptied of energy and emotion and still I would reach [Continued to 64]
64 The Crowder Quill ¦ Spring 2017
Spring 2017 ¦ The Crowder Quill 65