“Daddy, I’ve outgrown my dolls house. I need a bigger one.”
Cecelia Beatrix Parker-Bardot, sat up tall in her chair, with eyes which tethered to her fathers affections.
The maid moved on kitten heels, as she served supper, momentarily cutting off Cecelia’s line of sight to her father, and with it, her powers.
(…she’s got to go) thought Cecelia.
“You have a bigger dolls house, my Pearl, Parker Manor, Pearly, it’ll all be yours, one day.”
Cecelia kicked at the air, indignantly. Her foreheads canvas of fallen snow, displayed opaquely the ripples of blue and red, with the intensity of frenzied sharks, thrashing amongst their kill.
“I want it now!”
“Do not weep, Pearly, the world is built for Parker’s.”
“No, I do not weep at the world!”
(…I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife, ready to shuck my inheritance from your chest…)
© Darius the Mate
Written for dVerse, Prosery.
This piece of flash fiction, in 144 words, is inspired by the line;
“No, I do not weep at the world – I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife”, included above, from Zora Neale Hurston’s,“How Does it Feel to be Colored Me” in World Tomorrow (1928).
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