Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: HOME (02/07/19)
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TITLE: Pink Sheets and a Pillowcase | Previous Challenge Entry
By Pat Guy
02/14/19 -
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She felt tired. Drained.
Cold seeped through the back of her jacket as she leaned into the thick window pane trying to still a restless anxiety. Faint vibrations of music eased into her chest and she closed her eyes for just a few moments. Long enough to almost relax. Long enough for her breath to ease into tiny puffs of warm air. Winter had come early.
Tilting her head back far enough to look up at the neon sign above, she read. “Everyone Welcomed Here.” How ironic. Everyone felt welcomed to use her.
A frosty breeze and off to a room of four walls she ran.
It was a place to sleep, a place to wash and a place to stash little packets of crackers and ketchup from work. Sometimes though … she hoped they’d never notice … the food was going in the garbage anyway!
No soft bed here, of course but it was all she could afford. She could never do that anymore. A lifetime of doing that was enough. Fifteen years enough. Fifteen out of nineteen enough.
Anger and shame flared from her stomach into her chest. It hurt.
Breathe.
Pink sheets and a pillowcase on her bed reminded her of someone nice. She didn’t mind mismatched or odd pieces of this and that. She felt comfortable among them. Connected. She rested on pink as she looked up at broken. The fan wobbled, stirred little air and had an annoying rhythmic grind. Maybe years of dust had finally become too heavy to bear.
Could she imagine the rhythm of the music earlier? Maybe she could feel it again. She tried never to imagine anything, it took too much energy to push aside what she wanted to forget.
She closed her eyes. Pained.
Almost the music flowed.
Hungry, she got up, crushed some crackers into a pretty bowl, squeezed ketchup packets, added a little water, and mixed it all together. She was proud of her bits and pieces of this and that! And she enjoyed creating mismatched into a comfortable feeling of hers in this room.
There were a couple of hours before work. Maybe she could try again. Maybe she had just been hungry.
She stood at the door this time, gripping a cold door knob. Music still playing — soft and easy. People still murmuring. Her breath in fast puffs of warm air. She looked down at her frayed socks. She wasn’t ashamed. She was terrified. She loosened her grip ready to let go.
“Shelly?”
She couldn’t move. It was the pink sheet lady. The nice lady.
“Shelly? Did the sheets work out?”
She couldn’t think. Shelley needed time for the question to reach through mind-numbing fear.
“Um … um … yes, they’re pretty. Thanks.”
“Shelly, can we go inside to warm up for a few minutes?”
A few minutes, yes, maybe I can handle just a few minutes. She’s really nice.
The lady reached around Shelly’s arm to open the door so they could go in. Words of blue and green caught her attention to the right of her. High on the wall.
“Some call this home,
Others call this rest,
We pray you find yours.”
She stepped back, bumping into the lady, ready to push her aside. She needed to get out of there!
“Shelly? See those chairs way in the back?” It took her a few seconds to focus on where the lady was pointing. “Let’s go sit there and warm up a little before you go, okay?”
They sat in silence — music flowing all around, her breath easing.
“Shelly? Whenever you want to come and sit, just sit, I’ll be here.”
As Shelly finally looked up, blue and green seemed to be shouting at her ... “Some call this home.”
She turned away and closed her eyes. Weary.
Another melody began to play and carried itself into their little corner of safety — its words lingered and rested there awhile.
"Just as I am, though tossed about,
With many a conflict, with many a doubt."
It took a few moments, and then a sigh, maybe she could come back.
Just to sit.
Romans 8:1 “There is therefore no condemnation for those who are in Christ.”
Matthew 5:16 “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in Heaven.”
Lyrics of song from “Just as I Am" bu Charlotte Elliott
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Loved the scriptures at the end.
God bless~
I was a little confused during the description. I thought she was outside, but the ceiling fan didn't fit that thought. (btw - You didn't finish one sentence...typo, I'm sure.)
Well done.