i.

my seventh-grade classmate slapped me with the back of her hand, inked in slurs

and i stood there and let the words become an iron brand on my cheek.

she spits into my food: “sorry to ruin your lunch—wouldn’t want to ruin the taste of dog.”

the words on my face burn hot. i don’t move to rub them away.

ii.

i bet your parents came to america to work in a california nail salon. i bet they probably cleaned my grandaddy’s toes.

actually, my mom arrived in ellis island, and she waved at lady liberty, and i bet she didn’t know that lady liberty’s a filthy snake and a liar

i bet your parents are proud that this great country even allowed them in

yeah, i bet they are. i bet it’s everything my dad imagined when he starved, drifting in the pacific and i bet he really liked being called a yellow gangster and i bet he felt real welcome when he wasn’t allowed in some restaurants and i bet it was way better than his family’s life being threatened by some men in red uniforms back home.

iii.

i wore a face mask in public last weekend and a man told me to bring the chinese disease back to where i came from. i wondered if i forgot to wash off “alien” from my forehead that morning

he spat on me, so i used his spit to rub his slurs off my cheek

he ended up breaking my nose, and i heard the noise of my bones snapping, and it sounded like: “chink, chink.”

iv.

well, i mean, america spits on people like me and 

america spits on people who don’t really behave all that right

and america kinda spits on everything that makes it scared but

i think you know that. i hope you know that.

but it’s just, selfishly, all i can think about is me, and that

america spat on me last weekend. and i don’t really think i liked it all that much.

I am a female with attention deficit hyperactive disorder- primarily inattentive. For some reason, after days upon days upon days of being absorbed in screens, junkfood, and depression, I woke up today and looked up writing contests. I rarely finish anything that I start and I have not written much at all- I did take a class in college in order to prepare me to teach kids how to write and I loved it but it was just an elective course in the journey of preparation to help me learn to teach all subjects. I found this site and was instantly drawn to the freedom of expression and sense of community (as well as the numerous prompts- like candy!- to help get me started- (something that is often near impossible for me).

How did I find Prose? I am unemployed at the moment and saw a movie not long ago where a woman in the 60s and 70s turns to write-in contests to support her family and her alcoholic husband. I am not in a dire situation by any means, but it fascinated me. I researched to see if anything like that still existed and lo and behold. My motivation is definitely not money-I just know I have so much in my mind to be created and that I want to create- I just have trouble producing. I have only been on the website for maybe an hour and I am already feeling so much joy ..and relief? in a way? I think the spontaneity of answering a random challenge and just writing out whatever comes to my brain as soon as it’s there is what is so appealing to me. I’ve already submitted 5 entries and can’t wait to answer more challenges and prompts, as well as, get to know people in the community. I hope all of you have a wonderful, creative, and fulfilling day. :)

Lick.

Look up.

Lick. Lick.

Look up.

Lick. Lick. Lick.

Look Up.

Lick. Lick.

Look up.

Lick.

All they found was her scarf. The article, with its stripes of joy lay quietly at the knees of a young cypress. Layered with bold sections of royal blue, kelly green, and a bright sunshine yellow, it stood out quite starkly against the muted autumn backdrop- almost as if the accessory was all that contained life, unlike the actual living things that surrounded it. The early morning fog had not yet dissipated but hung in gentle whisps above the river. After sending word, the volunteers solemnly looked on at the scene, wondering and silently doubting if she would be found alive. Yet, despite the discovery, there was a veil of serenity over this place; an energy radiated from it that begged one to stay.