This blog is a place for me to contain all my writing projects: Mercer's Magazine articles, book manuscripts, short stories, journal entries and other Muse inspired works. EVERYTHING on this blog is © Bobbi Rightmyer, unless otherwise stated.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Once Upon a Time ....
(Photo by Dan Felstead of Wood and Pixels)
.... There Was a Little Girl
Once upon a time, there was a little girl living in the forest with her elderly grandparents. Cassandra was only 2 years old when she was orphaned and taken in by her mother’s parents. Try as she might, Cassi had no memories of her parents, only a few photos her Grand’Mere kept in a small metal box.
She had been told her parents were killed in a car wreck, but after living 10 years in the forest, Cassi had no idea what a car was. Grand’Mere and Grand'Pere never went more than a few miles from their cozy cabin and the only transportation Cassi knew about was Clyde, the old horse her grandfather sometimes rode.
As a matter of fact, Cassi had only met a handful of people other than her grandparents. Mr. Bowler, the traveling salesman who visited a few times of year; Mrs. Tatum who brought sewing and mending for Grand’Mere to do; and the men who hiked or rode horses in to buy ‘shine from Grand’Pere. She also had daily contact with Hank, who lived in the little shack behind the cabin.
Hank was the “hired hand” and he helped Grand’Pere with the farm work. He also played games with Cassi many evenings after the work was done. Although Hank was a grown man, he was what Grand’Mere called “simple.” Apparently, Hank’s breath had been taken away too long when he was born, so his brain didn’t grow up normal. Hank’s father was the traveling salesman before Mr. Bowler and he used to bring his son with him on sales trips.
When Hank’s father died after a bad fall from a horse, Grand’Mere and Grand’Pere decided to finish raising the boy as their own. Hank used to play games with Cassi’s mother when she still lived in the forest. Sometimes Hank would get confused and call Cassi by her mother’s name, Gloria.
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2 comments:
Bobbi...thanks so much for putting words to the photograph and you captured so well the conversations that must have gone on in that day. I really liked "Although Hank was a grown man, he was what Grand’Mere called “simple.” Apparently, Hank’s breath had been taken away too long when he was born, so his brain didn’t grow up normal." What a great way to express Hank's affliction. Very enjoyable read.
Thanks again,
Dan
what a great start,,, but i am left wanting to hear more.....
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