I promised to share excerpts from my newest middle grade novel; here is one. My heart breaks whenever I read parts like this.
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The only thing I remember about my dad is his tattoo. It
was barbed wire and wrapped around his bicep. When I was little, I’d sit on his
lap and trace the tattoo with my pudgy fingers. I remember the day as clear as
ice he told me about the tattoo.
“You like that, Will?” he said. He took another sip of
beer. “Got that when I was in the Marines. Something to do. When you’re older,
maybe you can get one just like it. Then we’ll match.”
When I was about seven, I took a black magic marker and
drew a barbed wire “tattoo” around my upper arm. Well, it was more like a black
squiggly line. When Mom saw it peeking out of my short-sleeve shirt, she went
wild.
She grabbed my arm and pulled up my sleeve. “What
possessed you to draw on your arm?”
“It’s a tattoo. Like Dad’s,” I smiled, showing off the
hole where my front teeth once were.
“Willy,” she said. “What am I going to do with you?”
I put my hands on my boney boy hips. “It’s Will. I don’t
want to be Willy anymore.”
Mom sighed. “OK then, Will. What am I going to do with
you? You used permanent marker. It’ll take forever to go away.”
“But I don’t want it to go away,” I said. “I want it to
stay. Like dad’s.”
Mom ran to her bedroom and shut the door. I could hear
her crying from downstairs.
Awww, that was lovely, Buffy! Thanks for sharing. I was totally there in the scene. :)
ReplyDeleteBuffy, that was just mean - kinda like giving me one tiny spoonful of Bluebell ice cream - it's not nearly enough! Thanks for sharing. Great stuff!
ReplyDeleteBlessings,
Linda
Thanks Sharon and Linda for your encouragement and support. You ladies are awesome:)
ReplyDelete