This flash piece was written for the 12 June 2014 Flash! Friday competition and received an honourable mention. The photo and “friendship” was the prompt.
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| “Rose Biodo, Philadelphia, 10 years old. Working 3 summers, minds baby and carries berries, two pecks at a time.” Photo by Lewis Hine, National Archives public domain. |
Rose and the Wind
A voice drifted on the wind, stirring leaves and berries. Children’s dirt-crusted faces lifted, red-stained hands frozen. Younger ones turned to watch the swaying shrubs. Older ones didn’t bother. Time taught that there was no place for imaginings in the life of a berry picker.
Rose stood rooted to the well-trodden path and watched the wind whip dust into a dance. The song continued, the dust showing a phantom arm here, a face there, a dress billowing. A longing filled her to follow the wind woman. Rose sang a few of the song’s strange words before the wind left. Other children watched from afar.
She came in the night, dancing, singing, calling through clusters of hovels. Rose woke at the sound and slipped through the door. Small bodies crept closer, clutching hands. The wind woman opened a door to a new world of shimmering castles and bright lands. Rose took their hands and stepped through.
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