Ladybug Kiss

Ladybug Kiss

 

 

Safia was only nine years old, but her eyes were weighed down by so many 'what ifs'. And they gave out a light that only Mama and Fares understood.

 

The girl had learned to tie her hair in a braid. On her own. Lock by lock, slowly. A few strands of hair had escaped her fingers, but she wouldn't bother undoing it all over again.

 

"If I can tie my own hair in a braid," she thought, "I can travel on my own. I can do many things; great and small."

 

She asked her mother what they'd have for breakfast as she glided down the stairs. All the good smells and sounds of sizzling ran opposite her as she reached for the door.

 

"Where are you traveling today?"

 

"Um, no where special. Just to the garden of good words."

 

"And where's that?"

 

"Mama, I can't tell you, remember?"

 

"Ah, right. What kind of good words?"

 

"Well, words that make people feel happy again after they had lost their fathers."

 

This was the third day. The girl and her friend had already prayed twice as they kneeled before the fish pond.

 

As she ran past the neighbor's lanes, a few trees and rocky trail, her breath ran out and she was eager to see the boy and the man laughing together. Just like two days ago.

 

But Fares was alone, a thin child in a dirty t-shirt, his cheeks cupped in his two small hands.

 

She approached him and ran her palm along his back as she sat with him,

 

"It's okay, he will come. Maybe he's still digging his way through the dirt!"

 

She opened the heavy-looking suitcase and pulled out two sandwiches wrapped in plastic. She complained about how hard it was to travel across many countries with this luggage.

 

Before she reached the garden of good words, she had barely been able to outrun a bandit of thieves who smelled something delicious in her bag. They wore feathers on their heads and rode on the backs of brown wolves.

 

But her legs were faster than the limbs of the wolves. And she was smarter! She hid under a cart of apples until they have given up and disappeared.

 

"Fares, your father may have superpowers now that he went to his death! Maybe he knows that you're hungry and upset. That's no good."

 

The boy believed everything she used to tell him. His eyes always grew bigger at the stories she told;

 

Last week, when his father was still alive, he told both his parents about the strange piano that drowned in the fish pond.

 

"It still plays music on its own! Dun-dun-dan...Safia heard it. And if you say something nice to the piano, it will give you a silver coin of five." he beamed to his parents, "That's because all the things and persons in the world love to hear good, gentle words."

But they showed him a mixture of a frown and a smile and asked him to be careful about the lies Safia liked to tell.

 

The next day, he ran back to the garden of good words to find something shiny near the taller grasses and broken swing. He was glad he was the only one who believed Safia, otherwise all the children in the quarter would know where to find the coins! And nothing would be left for him.

 

He told Safia that he needed to collect all the coins he could find until he is rich enough to buy a magical medicine that turns him into a Father who will never die. He didn't want his children to feel sad and cry.

 

"Let's eat so that your father doesn't worry about your health. The faster we gobble up our sandwiches, the faster your father comes back."

 

"The prayer worked, Safia? When we prayed that day?" A big tear left a shiny stream on his face.

 

"Yes, silly!"

 

Another strand of hair fell on her cheek as she took another bite from her sandwich. She brushed her hair from her face as she loudly chewed on a lettuce.

 

Safia noticed that her friend was busy pulling down the plastic from his sandwich, so she kept an eye out beyond the grasses and fish pond.

 

His father would come back from the orange sun any minute.

 

After all, Safia had seen it herself, when the cherry-red ladybug friend she once accidentally stepped on, had come back flying from the sunset sky to give her a tiny kiss on her forehead.

 

 

~25/06/2016

 

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A nice ending to the good story. I liked the character, the conversation and how you led to the hopeful ending. I like the ladybugs myself. Mean good luck for us who can see them. Thank you for sharing the excellent story.
Coyote

[YouoweYoupay]

Thank you so much. I like ladybugs too. They tickle when they walk on my arm. : )

[Coyote Poetry]

They do and you are welcome.

[Ken Simm.]

I love this all the way through but I also feel it could be extended beyond its tight limits. Beyond into a true fantasy book. This has all the elements.

[Patricia Wedel]

dearest poet... I adore your poem ...
even though I have regressed to bring a child...
it is easy to believe every word in the
Garden of Good Words... especially love the
bandit of thieves that wore feathers on their heads and rode on brown wolves. dearly, Pat

[barleygirl]

For the most part, I love the way your whimsical storytelling isn't necessarily logical, but I did have to re-read to sort out the timeline -- seemed to be jumping all over. There are several flashbacks while eating sandwiches & it's hard to follow, hard to tell when we're flashing back & when we're in the present eating sandwiches. But all in all, this is interesting, fresh, unexpected, & told in the spirit of a fable, from which life lessons can be drawn (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

Afterthought -- I've tried writing a whimsical story like this but people didn't respond to it at all. I find readers don't like to work at figuring out what all the twists & turns might mean. They'd rather have the storyline & meaning more obvious or clearly laid out. I like leaving my stories in a cliff-hanger, but I get a ton of complaints becuz people want a story to be wrapped up nice & tidy. I'm not saying either way is good or bad. Just writing observations!

[YouoweYoupay]

Dear Margie,
thank you so much for reviewing one of the closest stories to my heart.

And I want you to know that the world is vast and people come in all shapes and colors and sizes. Yes, I agree with you, immersing in imagination and fiction has become more challenging than it used to be. Because of all the visual bombarding and insanely speedy life-style dictated by today's societies, economy and pandemic. HOWEVER, I would like to point out that a slice of readers/fans, does not represent everyone. And you will still find many story lovers who consider reading as not only a hobby or an escape, but as a divine adventure into infinite worlds...You will come across readers who will basically pick up a book, crack their mouths open and swallow it whole, hungrily and curiously.

I LOVE cliff-hangers, because they make me nervous and eager, blood pumping and irritation swelling, dying to know more!!! Some may disagree with me, but that's okay.

Stephen King has written several awesome books? Yes. Many will say yes. HOWEVER, he has also published a few books that are literally LITTERED with info-dumping and "telling"...he got away with it. Why?
1) He played by the rules first, and now that his feet are planted firmly in the grounds, he breaks those same rules he excelled at following. For kicks...
2) He LOVES what he does. He is his own biggest fan.

So...NEVER STOP WRITING. AND DO WHAT MAKES YOUR HEART FEEL ALIVE.

~Aysha.

[barleygirl]

Stephen King wrote a book "On Writing" & he reveals much of what you're suggesting . . . & yes, he says being wild about writing is number one!

[Elizabeth]

The story was very bittersweet... I loved the ending and the writing was perfect... I look forward to reading more of your work

[StarNinja]

Beautiful. Absolutely exquisite writing and heartfelt words. This could be one of your best, Rain. My wife believes that ladybugs are the spirit of her grandmother watching over her. I've come to think that God and Nature speak to us in such ways, and we have merely to listen. Thanks for this wonderful story.