Prompt: They say Old Weezie’s been reading palms out of her run-down shack for a hundred years or more.
Source: writingforward.com
Response:
Her bright, glazed eyes stared out from beneath the crinkled folds of her coffee-colored skin. Her hands with their pale, soft palms and short-cut nails held mine - so much smaller and weak and translucent-white by comparison.
"You know, they say, child, Old Weezie been reading palms for a hundred years or more."
She did not look up at me, her gaze tracing the lines of my hand with itching intensity.
"Is it true?" I asked, my voice so small.
She did not answer my question. She turned my hand over and patted it gently.
"Well?" I asked, soft and scared.
"You got sad hands, child. Hands so sad." And she turned her fire-glazed eyes back to her cross-stitch, leaving me weak and translucent-white alone.
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Wow! You had me at "Hello." I love the use/transfer of the "translucent-white" from "Old Weezie" to the "child." Is the "child" being forced to accept the gift/curse of "Old Weezie?" What has brought these two together, a common bond of knowing what one would rather not know? Knowledge is power, but it can also be a paralyzing burden that keeps us from living our lives "right now." Is "Old Weezie" being cruel and selfish by drawing the "child" in, or is she trying to help the "child" who has no clue what to do with the "translucent-white" he/she has? I love the use of the word "weak." Knowledge is always persumed to be power...sometimes it causes intense pain that makes us weak/paralyzed.
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