Elizabeth, Sitting by the far-left window,
Elizabeth,
Sitting by the far-left window,
Watching the vast green vegetation of corn,
Lost into oblivion while biting her lower lip and twitching her fingers,
Her other hand holding on to a smoking gun,
Her doctor advised she stop smoking,
but well,
Tell that to El, Beth, Lizbeth, Liz, Lisa,
She preferred any of those instead of her full name.
The house was dead and irritably calm,
The whole place was dimly lit,
mostly by the moon which was disappearing and reappearing over the clouds,
Smoke filling the space since the window and the doors were locked,
Even at the dead of the night, the clouds were slowly gathering,
It will be messy this morning she thought,
A storm was coming,
This wouldn’t go well with the young plants,
she had spent a better part of the month making sure the planting was done right,
She had a place in her hard for the land,
And her plants,
They will bring her some good income,
Soon,hopefully.
At this time of the night
Everyone dead asleep just turning,
she could hear Tawa snoring, Tawa was the last born,
she had enjoyed her undivided attention,
lucky bastard she thought,
in contrast to her older sister, Raziya.
you wouldn’t think they were related
The moon reappeared again and lit her face,
Few lines of wrinkles on her face,
Age was catching up with her.
She had nothing on her,
Just matching black panties and lace bra,
With an old blouse of her Ma’s,
She would put it on every time something was disturbing her mind,
Had a belief that the spirit would help her get through all,
Weird for a woman brought up in Catholic ways,
The wood fire had fizzled out,
And the heat replaced with chilling air.
She had taken a break from the new book she was working on,
Full of minions and millions of feelings,
Each with a personal touch,
Moments of pain when she lost an angel,
Lost between the lines channeling emotions to tiny pieces of paper,
Felt like she lost everything,
No one understood her the way she wanted,
She retracted into her cocoon,
Put all her time into pen and paper,
The result was a good book, poorly raised kid and malnourished woman,
She couldn’t even recognize her own shadow,
“And here goes the story of someone you would wish to meet,” the title read.
Her mind drifting back, she took a look at her thin frame,
Felt pity of her once-great body now reduced to few ounces,
Wondering what happened,
She yawned,
Stretching her arms out,
She resigned to fate,
Life had taken a toll on her, and so did sleep,
It was time to wrap up the chapter and get some sleep,
The rain was coming.