Overcoming Bloglessness

Daily Prompt: The Clock

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Write about anything you’d like. Somewhere in your post, include the sentence, “I heard the car door slam, and immediately looked at the clock.”

The End                                                                                                                       ff62deb63f27be6cc417593d09f80452

On our way home from an afternoon of shopping Mom made an unprecedented right turn into the parking lot of The Meadows tavern and parked on the shady side of the building.  My little sister and I, in the back seat, were told to stay put, don’t touch anything and she would be right back.  She opened the front windows halfway, locked the car door and disappeared around the corner.
Tammy started bawling right away.  She cried any time Mom was out of sight.  I climbed into the front seat to get away from her.  We waited a long time. Tammy sobbed herself to sleep. I listened to the music and voices coming through the tavern’s open windows, wondering what my mom was doing in there. I imagined going inside to get her, but I was scared I’d get in trouble. I thought about walking home but I doubted Tammy could walk that far with out falling down bawling. I couldn’t leave her all alone.
I didn’t know what time it was but I knew it was past dinner time and then past sundown. When she finally showed up my mother was with a handsome, dark haired man I’d never seen before. I climbed over to back seat and the stranger got in on the passenger side.
“Tell your dad I’m going to a movie,” Mom instructed on the short drive home.   When I said I wanted to go too,  she and the man laughed.  She let Tammy and I  out at the bottom of our cul-de-sac and we walked home, Tammy wailing again, of course.
I told Dad what Mom told me to say. I told him where we had been so long and I told him about the man. I could see he was upset as he warmed up our supper.
Long after I’d gone to bed I heard the car door slam and immediately looked at the clock. It was almost three in the morning. There was yelling downstairs that night. That night was the end.
The next morning Dad tapped on my bedroom door and stepped inside. He was still in his bathrobe, he looked like he’d been crying.  I sat up in bed.
“I guess you know your mother is leaving”, he said.  She is? He choked up asking, “Will you stay with me?”
I had never seen my dad cry before. I didn’t hesitate to answer, “yes”.
That was a terrible day for Dad.  It was a lucky day for me.  I was glad I wasn’t going to live with Mom.

Author: Susan B Raven

For many years I have suffered from debilitating bloglessness, only writing in my head, while everyone else posted and shared with ease. Previous attempts at recovery have failed, my secret journals edited to death, pages torn out, crumpled and trashed. I will not succumb to this embarassing condition. I will continue to struggle against the rampant backspacing and endless blank staring. I refuse to relapse into the void that is bloglessness. I can do it. I am doing it. I am Overcoming Bloglessness.

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