Clara

An old woman and her morning

The morning sun, a shining pearl, shone brightly through the haze and cast its hue upon the world below. Clara Barnes, from her small house on  Sunflower Lane, saw it through the kitchen window.

Good morning, autumn sun. You're not like the one of just a few days ago. Eighty years on this earth, and I never cease to marvel at your many faces.

Morning time required Clara to do morning things, and she shuffled about her old wooden house in well-worn slippers and housecoat. While coffee percolated, she replenished the water and food bowls on the back porch.

Prissy Girl will probably be around soon for her breakfast.  I hope those mean boys didn't catch her and put dirty motor oil on her again.

From a small wicker basket, Clara took one of the two sweet potatoes she'd baked the night before and peeled it.

There's nothing in this world better than a sweet potato.

Coffee poured and orange goodness mashed, she took her chair on the back porch. As she looked out at the morning, she said a prayer.

Thank you for this beautiful day, Lord. Thank you, too, for good health and long years.

Clara swallowed a bite of sweet potato, then followed with a sip of coffee.

I'm so very blessed. Still, if I may...I don't want to sound ungrateful, but could you tell my children to come see me? If not all, then just one?

Clara ate, drank, and continued her plea to invisible ears.

I'm a lonesome old woman, Lord. Can't you just send someone to see me?

Meowww.

"Prissy! Wh--who's this friend you have with you? Oh, my, she looks hungry!"

Reviews

[Woody]

what a shame that some old folk should be left alone! you touched on something we see all too often.
without any need for long drawn descriptions and narrative you painted a beautiful (what's new?) story of an endearing old lady left to talk to God and her cat.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thanks, my friend.

[Noor.92]

I enjoyed reading this story but also felt a bit sad..v.well written..

[Ang.]

I like the simplicity and sincerity in your piece. Clara is quickly pictured and visible in my mind, as I rock beside her, sipping coffee and eating fresh sweet potatoes. Her prayer is answered with a light twist or ambiguity (who or what came with Prissy Girl?) that I wish was carried out, but I'm content that Clara has another friend too.

[Marie]

What a great story. So simple and clear; so touching. The woman sounds like me; I too have my morning routine, though it is nothing like Clara's. I also have three cats whose needs must be tended each day. I do try to keep the strays out.

Look at your first sentence. You made "its" a contraction which it should have been a possessive.

[Samuel Dickens]

Thanks, Marie. I'm a bit like Clara, too. Thanks for catching that error.