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My Portion

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Written in response to the Daily Post prompt, 'Portion'.

Painters

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Little Stories of the People: Kinship

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She's heard it again and again, a worrisome refrain: don't go out after dark.
But the days are growing shorter, and the thing that frightens her more than the prospect of what could happen is the possibility of living a life bounded by her own fears. So she says a prayer, keeps a firm grip on her purse, and projects an air of untouchable confidence.
Aboard the chappa, the air hangs heavy with the beat of Afro music, dust, cologne. Passengers cram inside, a solid mass of anxious people trying to get home. She squeezes up small to make more space, glad of the crowd that forces her to focus outside herself. 
A young mother scrambles in, vying for space for herself, her little boy, and the baby tied to her back. She watches the mother perch precariously on a broken seat, watches the boy face imminent danger of being knocked down by the urgent crowd. 
"Senhora, o menino pode sentar no meu colo."
The woman flashes her a smile, brilliant in the semidarkness.
"Obrigada…

We Could Have Lost

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Put Yesterday Behind You, Dear

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My family used to read a devotional publication that talked a lot about 'morning demons'; the worries, problems, and failings of yesterday that threaten to steal this morning's joy.

It's a new day. A new week. And God's mercies are new every morning. Don't let anything take away your hope and joy.

Happy Monday, my friends!

Reaching Tall and Proud

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