A bookish fellow
Studied God on weekdays,
Then made his way to Chaska,
To woo the schoolmarm there.Mercifully patient,
He waited six months of Sundays
For an answer
To his question.Instead, they wandered the cold town,
Discussing only anything else,
Turning back before it was too dark
Or too late.They parted ways then,
She to pore over lesson plans,
He to wend his way to the boarding house
Beside the tracks.He wondered,
Hardly daring to sleep,
While freight trains thundered
Through the wee hours,
Through his thoughts,
Shaking the tiny, strange bed.At long last:
Yes.
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A note from Beret: I wrote the preceding piece in response to a photo prompt posted on 100 word story. They post a new prompt each month…plus it’s chock full of amazing 100-word stories, as you might imagine.
Bad Parenting 101 