Wednesday’s are always writing days, but I thought I would stick with a prompt this week since the other posts have also been about writing or publishing. 😀
The sea of little faces was enough to make her heart weep. Hundreds of children displaced from their homes. The parents, some strong, their faces soothing encouraging, made of steel. Others a weeping mess as they clutched their children to their heart for one last time.
The bright colors of floral dresses, matching cardigans mixed with the browns, greens and plaids of the boys-wear and the girls jackets looked like a patchwork quilt being shaken out and lain about the train station. The flickering sound of the tags blowing about in the wind rose above the cacophony of the train station. The trains, crying, voices. . . so many voices.
Marnie pulled her sweater closer about her shoulders and drew a deep breath. She couldn’t let the pain get to her. She needed to stay calm. Stay strong. If only for the children’s sake. They needed someone to be strong, to be there for them in this hour of their need. She could wait and collapse tonight under the pressure of the grief that burned her eyes and set her nose running. The goodbye was always the hardest. She had worked with orphaned children her whole life, having been one herself, but seeing children with parents ripped from the loving arms that still surrounded them was another matter entirely somehow.
She couldn’t see through all of the boarded up and painted over windows, but her stomach clenched over what she remembered from the walk here. Buildings torn, their contents either hanging from the tattered walls or in heaps upon the ground. The bleak and black smoke. London was generally a foggy mess as it was, but the smoke only made it worse. Her lingering cough from the winter had been exacerbated by the ashes and smoke that floated around London. Her doctor had been begging her to take a stint in the country to get herself back to health. She never thought she would be leaving like this.
What did you think about the prompt?
By God’s Grace,
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