Word Prompt Wednesday 5/6/20
Hey guys, it's been a while since I've done my photo prompts but I'm back! Today's image comes from photographer Vanderlei Longo via Pexels. I was on the site looking for other social media images and was immediately struck by the image. Like, it was an instant info dump. That hasn't happened to me in a while, so I was very excited.
As usual, I ask, what scene does the image invoke for you? For me, I was immediately taken to a road trip. Who's in the car? Where are they going? Is it a road trip? I usually write romances and most scenes conjure 'meet cute's for me, but this one didn't. I saw a little girl sitting in the backseat, watching that rosary sway to and fro with the motion of the car. How did she feel about their road trip? Who was driving? The scene evolved out of that. If you're new to my word prompts, be warned, it's not a whole story, or even a half of one. It's usually a scene that comes to mind when I see a picture. It's unedited for the most part and off the top of my head. Let me know what you think, and what scene comes to mind for you in the comments below.
***
Giselle rubbed her eyes and sat up straight in the seat,
moving the seatbelt from her neck. She squinted as the sun in the windshield,
finally breaking over the horizon and announcing a new day. Her mother’s
crucifix swayed with the bumps on the road, a dark silhouette in the bright
light. Her big sister sang softly along with Mary J Blige, her grip on the
steering wheel tight. She had to be tired. They’d been on the road for days,
but in particular, they’d been driving since they’d rushed from their hotel yesterday
afternoon.
“Cree, will we stop someplace today?” Her voice was hoarse
from misuse.
Her sister had asked her to stop talking hours before she’d
finally fallen asleep. She claimed she couldn’t concentrate with Giselle asking
so many dang questions. How she was supposed to know anything without asking
questions was just one of the many questions her sister refused to answer. So
she’d shut up, finally drifting asleep around two in the morning. She looked
down at the dash and sighed. It was barely six am.
“Good morning, love bug.”
Not exactly an answer to her question. Giselle sat forward
and draped her arm on the two front seats glancing around at their
surroundings. Or rather lack thereof. They were on a deserted road, trees on
either side of them. Two lanes, patchy grass on either side and rows and rows
of pine trees. Maybe the south. She longed to take out her tablet and find out,
but her tablet was useless without wifi.
“Do you know where we’re going?”
Cree shot a quick glance at her before smiling. She held out
her hand, palm up. “Someplace special.”
In the center of her sister’s palm, light gathered and
swirled, the heat of it warming Giselle’s nose as she got closer. A flower
built, one petal at a time until the light disappeared, leaving a perfect pink
Oleander sat nestled in her hand. Cree wiggled her hand for Giselle to take the
flower. Awestruck, she did, nestling the soft petals against her cheek. She
loved watching her sister do magic, so she ignored the non-answer. Sitting back
in the seat, she gently placed the flower next to her and got out her tablet.
Might as well read until Cree was ready to talk.
Giselle didn’t know how long she’d been reading, but the car
was slowing and pulling off of the highway.
Finally!
She set her tablet to the side and rushed to the window.
They were pulling up to a gas station, though it didn’t look much like any gas
station she’d ever seen. Yeah, she could make out the pumps, but they were old
fashioned. Tall, skinny things with no credit card slot as far as she could
tell. As Cree pulled up to one, Giselle frowned. There weren’t even buttons on
the thing. How were they supposed to use it? Before Cree could turn the car
off, an old man shuffled from the small store, his steps slow. Age had nothing
to do with it, so much as the man just seemed to have all the time in the world
to do his business. She and Cree shared a look and waited until the man came up
to the car. Her sister downed the window and the old man leaned in.
“Looking for gas?” His voice was raspy, deep, his cadence as
slow as his walk.
“Yes sir,” Cree answered, pulling out her purse.
The man waved away the credit card. “If you found your way
here, money’s the least of my worries. Y’all hungry?”
Giselle and Cree shared another look. Cree nodded and the
man heaved a sigh.
“Well, get on out, then and go inside. Berta’ll feed you.”
Happy with the prospect of getting out of the car, Giselle
scrambled to open the door before her sister could protest. Cree called her
name as she came around the car, grabbing her shoulder.
“Don’t run off, you don’t know these people,” Cree hissed.
Giselle let out an irritated sigh. “I’m twelve, not dumb.”
“All the same,” Cree muttered, righting her purse on her
shoulder. “Just stick close to me.”
“Fine!” Giselle sucked her teeth and slowed her pace to stay
next to her sister.
Cree grimaced as she got a look at the two of them in their
dusty reflections of the store window. She turned Giselle by the shoulder and
went digging into the giant purse she toted everywhere. Producing a twist tie,
she wrangled Giselle’s long dreadlocks into a ponytail, whipping out a wipe and
running it across her face. Next came a small compact Cree used to powder her
own face, pushing back her own red and brown locs with a headband.
Straightening their clothes, much to Giselle’s annoyance, she finally deemed
them ready to go inside.
“Please don’t act crazy when we go in here,” Cree whispered.
Giselle leaned forward and tiptoed to reach her sister’s
forehead. “You’re the one always slinging magic around. Maybe give yourself
that pep talk.”
Cree growled and lightly bumped their foreheads together.
“You’re such a pest.”
Giselle smiled and stepped back, grabbing her sister’s hand.
“Let’s go. I’m hungry.”
“We only have enough money—”
“I know the drill, Cree. I’ll order the cheapest thing on
the menu and some water. Come on,” she whined, tugging at Cree’s hand.
Giselle opened the door to the small gas station, wincing as
the hinges creaked. How old was this place? Warm air and the chatter of a bunch
of conversations hit them as they paused just inside the doorway. The hostess
station, that doubled as a sales counter, to their right was empty, the cash
register old and well worn. It was the only thing empty in the place though.
Blue booths stretched the length of the small diner and were bustling. The
stools at the counter were equally full.
“What time is it?” Giselle whispered to Cree.
“Morning rush, maybe?” Cree’s eyebrows winged high on her
forehead.
The place was clean, bright, and smelled of cinnamon,
vanilla, and coffee. Giselle’s stomach grumbled at the cacophony of scents. Her
sister’s grip tightened on her hand and Cree gasped. Looking around for danger
Giselle scanned the diner, her mouth parting in shock. There was only one
person behind the food counter, and yet, there was coffee being dispensed to
the numerous patrons. The coffee carafe floating down the counter, carefully
filling each cup. A familiar sensation filled the air, the buzz of it tickling
Giselle’s skin as they stood there dumbfounded.
Magic.
She would know that feeling anywhere, having grown used to
it from both her mother and her older sister. Her throat clogged as it did
every time she thought of their mother. She pushed the thought of side, turning
her focus back to the diner.
“It’s real,” Cree whispered, her tone reverent. “Mama was
right.”
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