No one tells me to wash dishes
or eat my porridge.
I make masks in the basement all day,
sewing myself into a lethargy
that borders on trance
that falls into bliss when I stop.
I sit awhile on the cottage steps
swigging from a bottle of real ginger beer,
the spicy heat a strange comfort.
The dog zooms in the yard, the last firefly flares
and at bedtime I’ll read the pomegranate seeds.
The story will be familiar and never about the future.
I almost missed the part where this was from the prompt, it’s such a subtle narrative. And now I want ginger beer!
Thank you for commenting. Reed’s ginger beer is my pandemic days treat!
Haven’t had that ginger beer, but I do love it! I also love what you did with the words for this prompt! Great ending: ‘and at bedtime I’ll read the pomegranate seeds.
The story will be familiar and never about the future.’