This is my 1000wordsmeme contribution. Take a look at the picture. It's what prompt me to write these below. I would go all the way to 1000, but it's late and my floors need scrubbing.
Janice could not wait to get home. She’s wondering why the bus goes so slowly when she’s in a hurry. Would it kill her driver to go faster than a speed of slug? She has things to do, if her mother would let her. Janice is only 9. Her mother thinks it’s too young to play with knives.
Her classmates would probably think she’s weird if they knew how fascinated she is with knives. Nobody knows, though. She’s only fascinated with knife in her head. No. She’s only interested in knives when she sees a pumpkin.
Aha! There is it again. Every time she thinks ‘nobody knows’ that minstrel song takes over in her head and play. Sometimes it would come in the voice of a black man harvesting cotton, other times, played in the piano to the beat of her teacher counting the rhythm. That’s a whole lot of ‘nother story.
Where was she? Janice’s exasperated. She gets lost, even in thought while she’s thinking. She wonders if other people do it too.
She knows her mother flits, no buzz, from topic to topic. If her mother speaks 5 sentences together, it’s possible that all five sentences is going to be about five different topics. That’s not the worst of it though. She expects me to follow her line of thought.
Janice would just nod her head and pretend to understand because waiting while her mother explains things…
Imagine that your life is a grain of sand. Waiting for her mother to explain is like watching those sand drift away never to return again. It’s not a waste of time exactly. It’s more like a murder of time.
An ominous noise is coming out of the bus. Just one street over and the bus choose to quit! Now would be a good time to listen to her mother’s safety lecture. She slouch down on her seat and grab her book. It’s going to take some time.