I was in Baltimore this past weekend. Behind the home that I stayed in was a lane. An honest to goodness lane! Most of the yards had an entry gate from it. One home actually fronted onto the lane. I was about to take a picture of it when a little old lady appeared to ask me why I was taking pictures. That halted my agenda. But she did go on to explain that her house, the very one, was built in 1925. And that the barn / garage was built in 1930. I felt busted when she asked, “why are you taking pictures”. I could only respond, “I take pictures of everything”. She explained that a crew had come through the day before to cut the grass and that there was some heavy equipment involved. She hoped I was a part of a crew coming to repave the lane. She turned out to be very nice. We chatted for a while.
By the way, how do you like that gate to nowhere, cool I thought. It’s just standing there, with age written all over it, going nowhere:) Love it!
It was mid morning on a weekday.
I was working in my garden.
Doing battle, was more like it.
This unruly patch is the only green in this row of yards.
The grape is tangled with the honeysuckle.
Lina’s broom is on a surge for the sun while stiffling the lavendar.
When far away an interrupted cry.
It was the voice of a woman. I could hear the blows landing, and the rebuke with each blow. This, even after she had stopped crying out. A man’s voice, full of rage, blaming her for it all. She refused to give him the satisfaction of crying anymore.
He kept hitting her.
I couldn’t figure out which house this was coming from.
I felt helpless, pissed off and horrified all at once
Then there was a gurgly scream from him
Followed by silence.
For dVerse poets prosery #1, word limit 144 words max and include this line
“…when far away an interrupted cry..”
This prosey contains 140 words..I think.
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