gray

This week’s word prompt: gray.

Please post your 200 words (no more!) by clicking the comments link at the bottom of this post, keeping in mind The Rules.  Next Sunday evening 6/23/13, last week’s winner Amy W will read the entries and select a winner.

[Click the comments link below to read entries and discussion.]

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14 thoughts on “gray


  1. I want to forget a photo
    of a dying ghetto child.
    I want to ask a photographer
    if he felt afterward,
    while packing his camera and
    walking away.

    there are
    three ways
    to fold my father’s shirt.
    there is
    no way
    to make me trust him
    again.

    concrete grits into
    the child’s cheek
    the gray world in a
    sideways view.

    there is one way to
    make it the way it was
    I haven’t found it,
    I keep begging piteously
    for it,
    and no one will tell me.

    his bones are thin glass
    like bird’s ribs
    an ivory child
    eyes full of dying trees
    clear and blank as
    seawater.

    I’m smashing bottles
    green glass, soda, beer
    to line my wall.
    I keep trying to stop
    because the more I shatter
    the harder it gets
    to kiss him and
    I keep pleading
    but no one will
    talk to me.

    I’m trying to forget
    the photo of my dying
    child
    shrieking silently
    through tight-closed lips,
    huddled on the sidewalk pavement.

    scroll past
    click ‘show previous page’
    block
    different link
    close the window

    hold your face in your palms, weep on the keys.

    they unlock nothing.

    three kids just
    walked past
    my dead child.

  2. A Southern Melodrama

    Five in the morning, he had his boots on, spurs also. And although he rarely wore his broad-brimmed hat indoors, there it was. Ready he may have been, twitching almost in his eagerness to go, and yet he ate his biscuit slowly, as if such pleasures would soon become mere memories and not future possibilities.
    “Son,” he said evenly, and the boy who slept in the chair startled to life. “Make sure my rifle is good and clean.” The boy mumbled yessir and vanished from the room with panicked steps that pained the uneven floorboards.
    Standing now. “Ginny!” he called, although his wife was sitting not ten feet away. “Don’t be cross with me. I always told you that if Robert E. Lee needs men, I will be there. God willing, we will prevail. And if we fail, I pray to return to you intact.”
    He buttoned his gray jacket with self-conscious dignity, as if fixing an image in his family’s minds. He cleared his throat. The boy handed him his rifle without making eye contact. He sobbed and left the room again. As if on cue, a servant swung the front door open as far as it would go. It slipped from his hand and hit against the house with a thunderous crash. Husband and wife looked at each other, as if assessing the significance of it. Possibly there was none. The man stepped onto the porch. Pellets of rain were flung down from bluish clouds. He swore quietly, and walked toward his horse. Admittedly the horse was afraid. So was the man.

      1. You simply must fix this one. It’s too good to lose. I just finish a western by Louis L’ Amour and your work flowed seamlessly into it. Really nice.

  3. Would someone mind writing about waking up one morning & accidentally getting out of bed & directly stepping into ‘the gray area’ and spending the rest of the day/week/month in that puddle of “gray”? What do the islands of gray look like & consist of? What would it be like to re-surface & begin the same day out of the gray puddle?

  4. A Southern Melodrama: the Director’s Cut

    Five A.M., he had his boots on. Although he rarely wore his hat indoors, there it was. He was ready, twitching with it, yet he ate his biscuit slowly, as if such would become mere memories and not future possibilities.
    “Son,” he said. The boy sleeping in the chair startled to life. “Make sure my rifle’s good and clean.” Yessir. The boy vanished with panicked steps that paining the floorboards.
    “Ginny!” the man called. “Don’t be cross with me. I always told you that if Robert E. Lee needs men, I will be there.”
    He buttoned his gray jacket with self-conscious dignity, as if fixing an image in his family’s minds. The boy handed him his rifle without making eye contact. He sobbed and left the room again. A servant swung the front door open as far as it would go. It slipped from his hand and struck the house. Husband and wife looked at each other, as if assessing the significance of it. The man stepped onto the porch. Pellets of rain were flung down from bluish clouds. He swore quietly, and walked toward his horse. The horse was afraid. So was the man.

  5. wrung of every last drop
    strung on a wire

    like a rag I hang
    stiff and gray
    rough and bone dry
    bleached thin in spots
    edges frayed, coming loose

    the next wringing
    will tear me in two

  6. Gray Winner
    Grey is the Color of Between

    Between the dark storm, sleeting cold,
    And the bright sun, crackling hot,
    Lies the grey day, overcast with clouds.

    Between the jet black hair of youth,
    And the shocking white of dignity,
    Lies the grey of tired age.

    Between the black pet rat, sleek and aggressive,
    And the white lab rat, dopey and docile,
    Lies the grey dumpster rat, timorous and skulking.

    Between the funereal black three-piece,
    And the navy blazer with a power tie,
    Lies the grey suit, drab and bureaucratic.

    Between prison
    And home
    Lies exile.

    Between despair
    And possession
    Lies hope.

    Lord, save us from this present grey age!

    1. I demand a recount! I’m pretty sure Shlabotnik’s I want to forget… should have won. It was so haunting, I didn’t even want to submit anything, but this concept came to me in church this morning, and it came together better than I expected.

      Anyways, if the official committee upholds this decision, then the word I choose for next week is one I’ve always enjoyed the sound of: ‘gossamer’ adjective or noun is OK by me; I can’t wait to see what this talented crowd does with it. (Tell a friend! Let’s make the crowd more crowded!)

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