I got a chance to meet and fellowship with some black women writers recently and that has lit a fire under me to start writing more, not just for work, but for myself as I used to do in the not-so-distant past. To keep me accountable, I’m posting some of it here. Be gentle. I’m using writing/blog prompts from Jade Walker (@jadewalker) and oneword.com.
COPYRIGHT © 2014 Tanya Ballard Brown. All Rights Reserved.
Today’s Prompt: Aunt via oneword.com
Back at her desk she sits and stares at the papers and files in front of her and considers just shutting down her laptop and calling it a day. But tomorrow the files will still be here. Might as well get it done.
She gets up to close her office door, grabs her laptop and sits down on the sofa. She kicks off her heels, stretches her legs and wiggles her toes, noticing that the polish looks a little dull. Oooo, chile, I need a pedicure. Maybe I’ll do that after work today.
She pulls up Spotify and clicks on her JobimTitoPaquitoElisSergioJoaoRosa playlist. It’s a rare day that she doesn’t listen to some latin jazz. That and Michael Jackson. And Sting.
Their framed wedding portrait on the end table catches her eye and she takes in his face — coffee bean brown, bright smile, sensitive eyes. He gets on my nerves, but I love me some him, she thinks, glancing at her Google Hangout list to see if he’s on. Maybe they can revive the conversation about her ass in that skirt.
Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of her cell ringtone echoing in the room. She looks to see who it is and the display flashes her Aunt Linda’s face.
“Hey auntie, what’s happening?”
“You know your mama’s birthday is coming up soon. It’s on a Saturday and Jocelyn wants a party this year,” Linda says. “And you know that means a whole production and a bunch of money. So get your coins together.”
She grabs the calendar and flips through it trying to see how long she had to pull this party together for her southern extra-bougie, over-demanding way too dramatic mother. Just three weeks.
“Now, I’ve already booked a venue, but you need to get an invitation list together. Are you listening to me?” her bossy aunt asks.
How can I not hear you, she thinks, you’re running off at the mouth as usual, calling me and telling me how I’m going to spend my money. I mean it’s for my mother, but damn. Tired of these cheeky ass relatives of mine.
“Yes ma’am,” she says. “I’ll get started on the list today. I have to go now, though, because I’m at work. Love you!”
She presses end call and turns her attention back to the laptop. Google Hangouts was blinking. He was back online.