Four young child sits by the open porch on the early evening to catch the first stars to shine on the sky. The open porch they sit on are like many in the home of the lower middle income folks, bare of any elaborate furniture sets except for the rickety bench that acts as a seat for the four.
The eldest is named Angst, for he is one emotional driven kid with a fierce temper. The second in the rank of age is Cherish, a beautiful lass with bright blonde hairs that she has got it tied up in two pony tails. The third is Hope, dark kid with an ever smiling expression on his face. He also sings well in this house. The last if not youngest, is Sadie as she always left out among the four in any conversation or fun. You ought to know by now they are orphans in a children home. And the time of the day is the night before Christmas.
‘I liked the dinner which we just had. Its nice and fulfilling’ said Sadie but no one pays attention to her, as their eyes are riveted to the evening sky.
‘Angst, is there Santa Claus?’ asked the second youngest, who always looked for the silver lining in every cloud.
‘If there were any, they have gone back with the last of the kids from this home. ‘
Yup, today the home is only occupied by these four kids as the rest are spending it in the temporary foster homes or with families which has come to invite them. The last to leave was Cookie, who is only two years of age. Mrs Winter asked if the family could take the four kids but they replied their place can only accommodate one kid. So the four kids were left behind always. It wasn’t the families’ faults; it was theirs as the four kids stayed hidden when the potential guardians came for them. They did not want to be separated to different homes for the holidays. They want to be together as its not the same as celebrating separately. They may be orphans but they came to stay as one family for over two years now. So they have harbor the love of a real family unit.
Creative writing is more of a compulsion to engage with yourself in a world of words, ideas, imagery. There are moments of hot exultation or prickly exasperated yet victorious expostulation when at last comes the right word, the rhyme that works or can yield surprise and pleasure. Thank you for sharing my engagement into those words. .
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