Prose – Page 4 – A2voicedlife

Potbelly Bump (novelette continues)

September 3, 2023

Chapter 2 from ¿Who Will Help Sonia? There is no such thing as a homemaker who is only that. A mother to three young ladies in their teens, Rhaya knew better than to conceive such bland thoughts about motherhood, even if the now older millennials insisted on asking what she did for a living, if she had a LinkedIn profile, or what her professional title was. Sometimes, on a flight to see her sister Amanda, who lived south, she came...

Familiar Stranger

July 18, 2023

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| Family, Prose

We don't know who he is. Some days, a misunderstood prophet, come back from the last days of his trials, when the townspeople wouldn't listen. Others, an artist taken over by a passion, meaning to write up in a frenzy, unable to stop himself, in some quest against time. ¿Will he reveal the secrets commended? His violin bold drama. Soon after, hands strike the piano keys composing his own pieces, at times morose, later epical. He tiktoks existential, wielding a...

Angel Codes in 5

July 16, 2023

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| Family History, Prose

The first time, I was gifted a smooth, white quartz. A milky crystal to hold and cherish for protection. That's what my mother-in-law, Marge, urged me to do. "It's already blessed," she said, "on my last trip, I stood inside the circle of the round temple and held it high to the sun. The shaman assured me it is charged with my good wishes for you." Of course, I accepted her benign gift. "I believe it's Archangel Gabriel's, maybe Raphael's...

Pigeons

May 13, 2023

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| Prose

We still notice them, sometimes, but soon forget their presence. These days they swish more impetuously, in front of speeding vehicles, barely making it, overconfident. They stare down at us, perched on a myriad cables overhanging our city's space. Curious groups overseeing our bustle, the haste of our misunderstood time. Poised on roofs or in the hollows of a rickety overpass, their plumped up chests point to the sky dignified. Then, a steep dive. In brief trips from one...

Commute

May 7, 2023

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| Family, Prose

Not much is needed, besides good food, select music, and the same unruly road. The 2016 SUV still delivers, though we should at least promise to change her front tires. Soon. Fortunately, our Oxford gray ride is trustworthy, even if she croaks over the dimpled streets of this overgrown city. This morning, your avocado toast soothes with the aroma of sprouted wheat, and my coffee seethes in its metal thermos. But before digging in, you roamed my paid subscription to Spotify and...

My Antonia

March 23, 2023

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| Prose

A quaint, soft-cover book had been sitting around at home for years, in one of Mom's Mexican rustic bookcases. Back in my twenties, she bought me a batch of English classics to read up. She saw me consume the dainty hardcovers from her Jane Austen collection. Brontë's Jane Eyre found me a new heroine in the convenient pocket paperback. The yellowish pages from mom's Wuthering Heights copy revealed the kind of obscure romance I could get hooked on, and dwell...

Lifeline

January 14, 2023

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| Prose

I've pondered lately, looking out this lighthouse, the one we never considered stopping at. Your childhood boat cannot get close enough, it seems lost amongst the peaks of heaving challenge, dipping in a yes, swaying in a no. Yet, the beacon keeps doing the rounds, shedding light over the restless ocean of epochs. And we're still here, trying to moor. The sea hasn't deceived us, we always knew. There is strength beyond our means, stirring under the waves, and yet,...

Song Spirit

January 2, 2023

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| Prose

Song Spirit of days past delivers appropriate comment. Thoughts triggered by melodies ongoing in the city's mist, uploaded onto particles invisible, that he knows well how to catch. Quickly, he throws in the right verse. Masterful in the art of capturing exact moments, almost a machine, he recovers musings leftover from sleep, memories believed to be forgotten, old coats hung in the cloakrooms of our past. He sings by day and, when night falls, keeps to himself, as we observe...

The Whale Shark

November 27, 2022

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| Family History, Homage, Prose

She discovered his animal demon after marriage. A shadow in their ocean cave, an obscure figure pumping bubbles out his gills. The beast drew up powers from the deep, where cobalt blue went true black. Her own demons came forth unannounced, after the hookup. His' waited beneath for years, not needing oxygen to survive. When a baby, happiness was his native standard, but stale adults scolded from exhausted scripts anyway. He wondered at the beauty of the world, its immensity....

Greener Meadows

November 2, 2022

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| Prose

She needed proof from the outside, it wasn’t enough that her limbs ground and trembled from imposed rigor, cramming in the exercise session. “No more gorging, giving into cravings, no more nonsense,” ordered the familiar voice. It sounded so reasonable in her mind, that she could stop that silliness immediately. She'd forgotten, again, in the wide stare of the prejudiced mirror, in the parlor, that very morning, while absorbed in the tasks ahead. As a nonbeliever in the vague, muted...

Category: Prose

Potbelly Bump (novelette continues)

Familiar Stranger

Angel Codes in 5

Pigeons

Commute

My Antonia

Lifeline

Song Spirit

The Whale Shark

Greener Meadows

A 2 Voiced Life

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