this is a short story that i wrote quite a while ago; sometime in my teen years. it was all folded up in a rusted tin box. i found it the other day when i was feeling nostalgic for the past.
her silent days.
Her lips are pursed together, forcing her to exhale out of her nostrils, shaking the hairs inside them with each rhythmic breath.
Not only does her sealed mouth forbid the release of breath; for many years she has pressed her lips together in the same way to withhold words. many words weren't spoken that should have been and they are now wedged in the web of wrinkles that have grown from the contours that her lips form.
The children of the town laugh and poke fun at her lips which they claim have been glued together. They watch her in awe waiting for them to part...but they don't and they wonder how she eats.
"Through her nose!" teases one boy. They laugh and scatter. The old woman is in fact old, but certainly not deaf and shoots a razor sharp glare at them and equally sharp thoughts circle inside her head, but of course they are not voiced. She does not know why they tease her or why their mother's talk and gossip and hush one another as she walks by. You see she doesn't understand that her pursed lips, her silence provokes curiosity.
go to these places for other story posts fruenswerk, aimee, trinsch, anairam, elisabeth, veja cecilia, hanna, aris and b. oh and catherine will be posting something shortly.
thanks to all the new lovely people i've met, so glad so many of you were up for interpreting my word.
next wordweek word is going to be announced by aris. go to her blog on monday if you are interested in playing. all welcome.