Tag: Sisters

Helen, Lucy, and Quack

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Flash Fiction: A Wayne Donald and Kinley Chris Adventure

The image above is by Erwin Bosman on Pexels. It depicts three chickens perched on a branch. The chickens appear to ascend in height from left to right; the leftmost chicken being mostly brown, the one at center being mostly white, and the rightmost being mostly black.

Wayne Donald stares outside their upstairs bedroom window. She is scratching the curly, messy knot of hair on her head while she huffs and breathes outwardly in exasperation.

“You gon’ tell Charlie ’bout them chickens of theirs cluckin’ about in the yard again, Kinley Chris, or do I have to put on my knickers and go on over there and do it myself?”

Wayne Donald is in rare form this morning. It is a raging hot Sunday in the depths of the South, and wandering chickens are the last things she wants to deal with the day before going back to school. The girls had been out for Christmas break, enjoying every moment of freedom their grandmother would allow, and now… the countdown to back-to-school has begun.

“Who out there?! Which ones? Some, I don’t mind. I put some chicken feed out near the fence yesterday morning—might be sopping that up.”

“Looks like Helen, Lucy, and Quack.” She squints her eyes to look closer outside of their upstairs bedroom window—zooming in with imaginary binoculars. “Yeah… that’s definitely Helen, Lucy, and Quack.”

Kinley Chris looks up from an adventurous book she had been reading, keenly stares at her younger sister, and nods in approval.

“Long as it’s not those other demon birds, I say, let them be. Charlie Rhett and ‘nem are at church anyway at this hour. It ain’t no need bangin’ on their door about some harmless chickens just cuz you don’t like the way they cluck.”

“They irritate me, Kinley Chris, and I just can’t take it. Why you gotta put that chicken feed out on Sunday mornings when I wanna sleep in?”

“Who are you to tell me where and when to put chicken feed, Wayne Donald? It’s late morning, and you shoulda been up about an hour ago anyway. Don’t get on my bad side before noon.”

Wayne Donald shuffles off to her bed, plops her flimsy body back down, tucks her face underneath the sheets, and fake-sobs. Through the sheets, she continues her argument with her big sister.

“I’m just sayin’… they cluck and squawk and make so much noise while they’re eatin’, Kinley Chris. How can you even read with all that racket walkin’ in through the window?”

“You were just up, Wayne Donald. You could’ve closed the window, silly. They aren’t that loud, and it’s too early to be complainin’. Get yourself a few more winks in, and I’ll go downstairs in a bit and fetch us some breakfast. If Helen, Lucy, or Quack laid some eggs, we’ll have us a mighty fine batch of eatin’.”

To this, Wayne Donald does not debate. She turns over, snuggles up into a ball, and closes her eyes. “Fifteen more minutes,” she says. “Fifteen more minutes.”

Part I, Part II, Part III, and Part V.

This piece is my offering for this week’s Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction Challenge, #353. I love it when these two sisters start speaking to me. When I saw the prompt roll out this past Monday, and those chickens staring back at me, I said, “Ha! Wayne Donald and Kinley Chris,” so here we are. Thank you so much for reading.

Have you gotten your copy of Séduire: Serial Tales & Flash Fiction at Lulu in E-Book & Paperback versions, or Amazon in Paperback (only) yet?

I am on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing, as I discuss recent events related to my previous place of employment, including racism and discrimination, the growth I experienced after resigning from that company, and the foibles and overall experiences of life. I welcome your visit.

Ivy Tower

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Flash Fiction: A Wayne Donald and Kinley Chris Adventure

The image above is from Jon Tyson. The image depicts the window of a brick building that is overgrown with ivy; some of the leaves are still green, but many are a beautiful red color. We see some, but not all, of the window frame.

“Wayne Donald! Get out here! We needa clear somma this ivy!”

Kinley Chris shouts up toward the huge window of their grandmother’s home. Wayne Donald is in their bedroom watching Gremlins, avoiding all Saturday chores. She huffs, kicks her feet up from the bed, jumps down from the top bunk, and lands with a vicious thud over their grandmother’s art room.

Kinley is standing outside in front of their grandmother’s home, under the first window. She is dressed in a medium Uline Deluxe Coverall, ski mask, gardening gloves, and goggles for protection. She is holding a mini rake in one hand and a standard rake in the other.

“Kinley Chris, why we gotta do this? Why we can’t wait ’til Uncle Henry gets here to clear this ivy? I hate it. It makes my stomach turn.” The younger sister whines and tries to plead her case, but Kinely Chris stands firm on what needs to get done as a part of their Saturday chores.

“Every Saturday you moan’n groan, like I wanna hear it. I don’t. Uncle Henry won’t be over here ’til later on this evening for dinner, and by that time, he ain’t gon’ wanna do nothin’ but plop down and fill his belly with steak, potatoes, and gravy. So… please go get your gear on and get back out here so we can do what we need to do.”

Wayne Donald stirs up a fuss with her feet as she rattles the leaves awake beneath them. She races upstairs to gather her gear, puts it all on in haste, and rushes back outside to help her big sister.

“Get yo rakes and make sure your goggles are on good. We don’t need you rashin’ up ’round the eyes like you did two weeks ago. I got a swift slap to my cheek from grandma for not checkin’ on ya before we started, and I ain’t aimin’ for that to happen today.” Wayne Donald straightens up her goggles and pulls her ski mask down to meet the edges.

“And if you do a good job today, I’ve got some gummy bears with yo name on’em.”

Wayne Donald looks over at Kinley, shakes her head happily, and gets to work.

AI-Generated Image: Two sisters; one teenager, one seven-year-old, dressed in gardening gear and goggles, frowning.

A rare shout from up above meets the girls’ ears. It’s their grandmother giving precise orders for the proper trimming of the ivy.

“Girls, I likes them red leaves… how they’re comin’ in beautifully. Keep as many of them as you can, leave some green leaves to mingle with it, and trim from the top to the bottom. Y’all got your hedge clippers out there?”

The girls look up, both surprised to hear from their grandmother at this time of day. Typically, she’s asleep until noon, it’s only 09:30 AM. Kinley is the first to respond, then Wayne Donald.

“Sure thing, Grandma. We’ll get it right.”

“Okay, Grandma, will do!”

The sun rose higher to greet the two of them just as they were making headway under the third window. With seven more windows to go, the girls know they will not finish the task today, but at least most of the trimming and clearing of the ivy will be done for next Saturday.

“Whew! Five windows down, five more to go. It’s time for lunch, Wayne Donald. We can end here and finish up next Saturday. I think I smell Grandma’s fried spam and eggs, and I sure do want a belly full of that on some buttered toast.”

“Lawd, I do too, Kinley Chris! I been waitin’ for you to say we can stop since we started. Let’s get inside!”

What will the two of them get into next?

Part I, Part II, and Part III.

This piece is my offering for this week’s Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction Challenge, #349. I love these two sisters. They remind me of my friend, E’s two youngest girls. When the series is complete, I will share it with her. I am long overdue for a trip up to the mountains of Western North Carolina to visit all of them, and I am looking forward to it at the beginning of next year.

My Kid Sister Isn’t a Baby Anymore

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And I honestly don’t know how I feel about that.

*Sobs uncontrollably all over these photos*
*Sobs uncontrollably all over these photos*
*Sobs uncontrollably all over these photos*

If you’ve been following this blog for a while (or my previous blog before it) or you’ve followed me on Medium, then you’ve likely read about my kid sister. Today is her 26th birthday, and it hit me like a Mack truck that my baby is no longer a baby. She’s closer to 30 now than she is to age 20, and I’m seriously in my feelings about it.

I’m wallowing in crocodile tears, mentally flipping through the memories of us as she was growing up, and reminiscing about her toddler years, and I am NOT okay. Lol!

She’s beautiful. She’s intelligent. She’s talented in so many ways. She has a love for musicality and can sing the socks off most people I know. To say that I’m proud of her is a major understatement. 

Here’s a snippet from her birthday poem:

You are the blessing I
prayed for–my dream come
true. Every day, I am
wowed by the woman you
are becoming, and I bow
before your changes.

You restore all that is
good within me, and there’s
no price for that.
I’ll never be able to repay
you, but I’ll love you until
my last breath.

I wished for a sister for so long. It was one of the things that was HIGH on my list of wants as I was growing up. To have that dream come true and my wish granted when I was 19 years old was one of the happiest moments of my life.

Bless, you are amazing, and I am so proud of the woman you have become, and I look forward to who you will be in the future. Keep shining, kiddo! I love you!

Please join me in wishing the kid a Happy Birthday, folks! 26 years on this earth is a testimony nowadays, and I am over-the-moon that she has one!

I Am More Than My Rejections

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NaPoWriMo #24 A Cinquain

My lovely birthday gift from my kid sister. I adore it, and I will cherish it for many years to come. I can’t wait to drape myself in it later on this evening! Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

I am
Who I will be
When I put my best self
Forward in everything I do
I am

Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?

I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent events with my place of employment as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.

**The Crush and I had another conversation post-my initial video sent to her of me shooting my shot. And the follow-up discussion was so I could gain clarity on some things and understand what was being said and what was NOT being said.

Sometimes I have to have things put to me very plainly so I can process them. It is always a gamble with anyone when approaching them with some form of keen interest, it is moreso a gamble while being bisexual and approaching a woman you love and have loved for over three years, nearly four, and crushed on for close to three years.

Needless to say, we will remain friends. She has never been attracted to women outside of simple admiration for them and respect for our overall physical beauty. And the last thing we need is for us to embark on a path toward a relationship, get involved, and a dude comes along who she’s MORE interested in, and then leaves me high and dry. Not good.

I’m still proud of myself. I did a thing I never thought I would do as it relates to her and my feelings for her.

But I won’t lie. It hurts. One day, it won’t, though. And that’s life. I am who I will be when I put my best self forward, in everything I do. I am.

Home To Nowhere: Part VII

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Microfiction: Kelsey’s sister, Miah (My-ah)

AI Generated Image of a little Black girl with green eyes and fiery red curls for hair. She is wearing a dark green top with a smirk on her face and is seated in front of a green background. Created with Canva.

Miah is a sister-cousin/cousin-sister, but she is clueless. She only knows her big sister Kelsey is the light of her little six-year-old world. She is temper-tantrum goodness and field trip busy. She finds Kelsey lying down on their living room couch, softly whispering to herself.

“Kels, you talkin’ to you?”

“Hey, Miah. Yes, kiddo. I’m talking to myself.”

“What you sayin’?”

“Everything’s gonna be all right.”

“Oh . . . Okay, then.”

Miah rushes toward the staircase–her fiery red hair sailing in the breeze. She is clueless, and that’s a good thing.

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, & Part VI

Home To Nowhere: Part II

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Microfiction: Kelsey’s Brother Tyson

AI Generated Image of a Black little boy with green eyes, wearing a light gray shirt, with curly, cropped black hair. Created with Canva.

Tyson is a firecracker with hair that sings and eyes that lure the most anxious passerby. He is a tag-along brother. He follows Kelsey everywhere she goes. At eight years old, you’d think the kid had his own friends with which to play, but he dotes on his big sister fiercely.

The day Kelsey went digging for her origin, he told her what he heard his parents discussing.

“Mommy said to Daddy, ‘If she ever finds out from anyone else, we’ll have Hell on our hands.’ Oops! Sorry, Kels. I cussed.”

“You did, little buddy. And that’s all right. So, they said I’m adopted, huh? That’s what you heard?”

“It’s what I heard.”

Taking in this newfound knowledge, Kelsey wraps it up in her mind and saves it for the day of confrontation. Someone is going to tell her the truth.

Part I