dailyprompt
-
Her Converse scraped the dashboard, leaving a smear of chalky dust. She sat in the passenger seat, eyebrow pencil in hand. As the second oldest, that spot was hers by right. My mother drove, straight-backed, wearing a navy blue dress with a high neckline. At red lights she’d check the rear-view, stealing quick glances at…
-
Her shoulders rolled, hips catching the rhythm. One leg kicked high, loose and easy. She tossed her thick curls back, let her head swing low, then snap up with the downbeat. The music moved through her, brown hair swaying like branches after thunder. Her hands rose and fell, wrists so thin a child could wrap…
