Friday, April 21, 2006

Entry #1

"A Wealth of Love"
by Sandra Seamans


We sat in the dark hallway, both of us wrapped in our own thoughts and prayers. Only the soft glow from the antique lamps offered us any comfort in the blackness that surrounded us.

I could hear my mother’s voice drifting across the years, "You can take the girl out of the trailer park but...well, never mind. Just remember this one thing, marrying up don’t make a woman’s life easier, just gives her more expensive choices."

Poor Daniel, my sweet innocent son, was curled up under the hall table. Just a shadow, hidden out of sight. His mind closed to the sight of his father resting in a puddle of blood, a butcher knife plunged into his chest, his mother rescued from his father's savage blows.

I cradled my battered head in my blood soaked hands, sobbing out my fears. I needed to pull myself together enough to make that damming call to the police. One call that would decide our fate.

That night proved the truth my mother's words . Folks should keep to their own kind. Climbing out of a trailer park into a rich man’s house didn’t make my life better. My upbringing just gave my wealthy husband an edge. He could beat his poor white trash wife half to death without giving any thought to the consequences, but when he died...the jail cell door slammed tight behind me. And Daniel, my sweet boy, was free to live his life without fear.

18 comments:

Bernita said...

I like the contrast between the brutality and Jason's elegant photo.
The apparent POV switch confused me though.

Erik Ivan James said...

Me too, but only a bit, on the Pov. Good story, and as Bernita said, great contrast.

Anonymous said...

Thanks bernita and erik. I loved Jason's photo. I found myself staring into the dark places trying to see what was hidden there. And that's where the story came from. Sorry about the POV. One of those Duh moments. I totally missed it. Sandra

Bernita said...

I think if "her" was changed to "my son" it would fix it nicely.

Anonymous said...

You're right. Do you suppose I could bribe the judge to fix it?
;-) Sandra

Anonymous said...

We're all friends and supporters here. I'd be happy to!

I think I got it. :D

anne frasier said...

wow. very nice.

jason, this is going to be tough!

Robin said...

Great story!

Jeff said...

Emotionally powerful, Sandra. Very good. :)

Bhaswati said...

Powerful and evocative writing. The sadness is at once liberating too. Good job :)

Jaye Wells said...

Very good. Haunting imagery.

Anonymous said...

Thank you everyone for your kind comments. And a special thank you to Jason for fixing my mistake.

Kelly (Lynn) Parra said...

Sandra, what a strong piece. Wonderful! =D

Kelly from FM =)

Lyn said...

Echo the comments - good image contrast. Had me through the end, although I was wondering if the son slept through the murder or retreated from the horror. Did I miss some clues? Thanks for writing. Lyndon (Entry #24)

Terri said...

Great story :)

Anonymous said...

Thanks to everyone for their comments. And Lyndon, he retreated from the horror. The clue is this partial sentence "his mother rescued from his father's savage blows."

Lyn said...

Ah, good call. Of course he'd be aware of the violence if his mother is there rescuing him. Sorry, more my reading than your writing. I appreciate your subtle descriptors. Well done, lgp

Anonymous said...

Sandra, the image of the boy under the table is very vivid! Makes me really feel the protagonist's sense of protection underlying the piece.