Saturday Centus has rolled around again. For those who don't already know, this is a writing meme where usually Mr. Jenny (but this week Sami) gives us a prompt that we mix gently or not so gently with 100 of our own words to create a little story gem of our own. The prompt is in red.
“Did you see Scott’s SUV after practice? He’ll never get that freakin’ lipstick off.”
“Stupid cheerleaders. His dad’s pissed, dude.”
The voices ran through Sarah’s mind like a recording, over and over, without relief. Snatches of backseat conversations, boisterous shouts from the yard, muffled discussions in the shared bedroom.
“Hey, watch the language, guys.”
Her own voice replayed, too. Shrill, sometimes. Was it last week or a lifetime ago? Would she have done anything differently if she’d known?
She needed to feel something. Anything. The CD loaded. Judy Garland always made her cry.
“Somewhere, over the rainbow…”
Sarah waited, willing the grief to spill over.
But there was nothing. Just ghosts and replays.