Dear Writers, a few years ago one of my favorite writers, Amber Sparks, acclaimed author of The Unfinished World, And I Do Not Forgive You, visited my other Substack Newsletter “Prompts of Resilience” (formerly known as Pokrass Prompts) and wrote a tiny and brilliant story to the prompt I gave her.
A pair of sisters skating toward school, not wanting to arrive. A problem between desire and duty. (Mom’s sugar cookies or whatever chaps Dad’s ass). An idea is hatched. A plan made. A bargain struck. Back home, the slip of a paring knife intercepts. A deep cut. A burst of curse. A rolling on the kitchen floor. A scream and an echo. Twin bleeds. Bleeding twins. A rush to the rescue. Mom’s healing kisses, Dad’s sting of iodine. His careful wrap of bandages. Sisters smug and snug (eating the cookies). The discovery that scabs pulled off one sister by the other prolong the supply of cookies. The suspicions. Mom whispering with Dad. The camera installed. A confrontation of freshened wounds with the evidence. Wounds healing all over again, the cookies all gone. Then a gradual knit of skin, the fading of pink, the tattoo of scars. A warning to all scabs waiting to happen worn on sashes thrown across the sisters’ shoulders.
Love the short burst and rhythmic intensity of these accumulating tiny sentences adding up to a panoramic view. “Smug and snug” is particularly great. This is wonderful.
The Poison Ivy League knew for their first out-of-town roller derby they’d need the big—or—little guns. The Martin Twins, known as Lizzy Thwartin’ and Belle Scarr, had been born in skates (bless their poor mother). They’d help unleash fury upon The Scabs in Dallas, Saturday night.
The referee tried disqualifying them based on their age/height. P.I.L.’s captain claimed they were eighteen, that years of chain smoking stunted their growth. The crowded warehouse smelled of sweat and sawdust. The twins’ sashes mocked their opponents: Don’t-Be-A-Scab.
Their sugar cube teeth deceived The Scabs’ blocker into thinking it’d be easy to knock Lizzy down and shine the track with her face. Belle saw it, skated behind the blocker, parting her knock-knee curtains, sending her over the outer wall.
The Scabs huddled, planning to take Belle out with a subtle leg sweep. The Scabs’ jammer couldn’t resist, at the sound of the whistle, she grabbed Belle’s hair underneath her chipped green helmet. Lizzy did a backwards surf, stopping short, colliding with the jammer, setting off a chain reaction as Scabs tumbled like fleshy dominoes.
Lizzy remembered their dad’s dying words: God’s given the world two of you, in case one warning isn’t enough.
This is so much fun! Agreeing with Mary, a huge story lives in this action-packed truffle. Particularly love the sugar cube teeth.. Laughed aloud re: chain smoking stunting their growth. All the smells, sounds, and slights. So funny and real. Last line is perfect.
Mimi was Dad’s favorite, while Sarah was called the problem child. No one could tell them apart. Yes, they wore the same coats, skirts, roller skates. They put bows in their hair. They rolled up and down the streets playing strange games with strange rules. But if one smiled, the other didn’t. If one wore black tights, the other wore white. Mimi wore her hair chin-length while Sarah pulled hers back into a ponytail. Still, they looked the same. Dad used to give Mimi extra sugar in her tea. Tut-tutted Sarah and served hers in the chipped cup. One day, Sarah cut her hair to her chin and smiled when Mimi smiled. Their Dad looked from one to the other, back and forth. He’d always thought Mimi was the pretty one, but now he wasn’t so sure. He called the girls to dinner and demanded to know who was who, but the girls just shrugged at the exact same time, then ate their food silently. Over time, their Dad lost his mind completely. The girls went outside and skated. When one fell and scraped her knee, the other did as well. They rubbed their bloody knees together, blood sisters forever.
I love the smoke and mirror act of this. How the girls were silently judged against each other and became a unit to protect each other. As we know when one child is a parent’s favorite, it hurts both the “favorite” and the child left behind. Here, it cements them into one tricksterish child, and the details make it. In the end, we can see that for better or worse they will never be apart. I think this is terrific. Repetition of the word “blood” in the last line is masterful.
Don’t
A pair of sisters skating toward school, not wanting to arrive. A problem between desire and duty. (Mom’s sugar cookies or whatever chaps Dad’s ass). An idea is hatched. A plan made. A bargain struck. Back home, the slip of a paring knife intercepts. A deep cut. A burst of curse. A rolling on the kitchen floor. A scream and an echo. Twin bleeds. Bleeding twins. A rush to the rescue. Mom’s healing kisses, Dad’s sting of iodine. His careful wrap of bandages. Sisters smug and snug (eating the cookies). The discovery that scabs pulled off one sister by the other prolong the supply of cookies. The suspicions. Mom whispering with Dad. The camera installed. A confrontation of freshened wounds with the evidence. Wounds healing all over again, the cookies all gone. Then a gradual knit of skin, the fading of pink, the tattoo of scars. A warning to all scabs waiting to happen worn on sashes thrown across the sisters’ shoulders.
Love the short burst and rhythmic intensity of these accumulating tiny sentences adding up to a panoramic view. “Smug and snug” is particularly great. This is wonderful.
Thanks, Meg. I'll be sure to keep what you pointed to in the rewrites!
Such great rhythm. And what a story!
Thanks, Mary. I enjoyed your merged twins, too.
Thank you!
I echo Meg’s statement about the short sentences Cheryl, creates such intensity! Love your response to this prompt!
Thanks, Guy. I liked the energy of your story and those imaginative characters.
Scab Busters
The Poison Ivy League knew for their first out-of-town roller derby they’d need the big—or—little guns. The Martin Twins, known as Lizzy Thwartin’ and Belle Scarr, had been born in skates (bless their poor mother). They’d help unleash fury upon The Scabs in Dallas, Saturday night.
The referee tried disqualifying them based on their age/height. P.I.L.’s captain claimed they were eighteen, that years of chain smoking stunted their growth. The crowded warehouse smelled of sweat and sawdust. The twins’ sashes mocked their opponents: Don’t-Be-A-Scab.
Their sugar cube teeth deceived The Scabs’ blocker into thinking it’d be easy to knock Lizzy down and shine the track with her face. Belle saw it, skated behind the blocker, parting her knock-knee curtains, sending her over the outer wall.
The Scabs huddled, planning to take Belle out with a subtle leg sweep. The Scabs’ jammer couldn’t resist, at the sound of the whistle, she grabbed Belle’s hair underneath her chipped green helmet. Lizzy did a backwards surf, stopping short, colliding with the jammer, setting off a chain reaction as Scabs tumbled like fleshy dominoes.
Lizzy remembered their dad’s dying words: God’s given the world two of you, in case one warning isn’t enough.
This is so much fun! Agreeing with Mary, a huge story lives in this action-packed truffle. Particularly love the sugar cube teeth.. Laughed aloud re: chain smoking stunting their growth. All the smells, sounds, and slights. So funny and real. Last line is perfect.
Thank so much Meg, I love your photo prompts, it’s such a great approach for getting stories to come out!
Oh, wow, fantastic. I love where you took this one. I bought into it immediately and was there for the whole ride.
Thank you so much Mary!
I tried!
Mimi was Dad’s favorite, while Sarah was called the problem child. No one could tell them apart. Yes, they wore the same coats, skirts, roller skates. They put bows in their hair. They rolled up and down the streets playing strange games with strange rules. But if one smiled, the other didn’t. If one wore black tights, the other wore white. Mimi wore her hair chin-length while Sarah pulled hers back into a ponytail. Still, they looked the same. Dad used to give Mimi extra sugar in her tea. Tut-tutted Sarah and served hers in the chipped cup. One day, Sarah cut her hair to her chin and smiled when Mimi smiled. Their Dad looked from one to the other, back and forth. He’d always thought Mimi was the pretty one, but now he wasn’t so sure. He called the girls to dinner and demanded to know who was who, but the girls just shrugged at the exact same time, then ate their food silently. Over time, their Dad lost his mind completely. The girls went outside and skated. When one fell and scraped her knee, the other did as well. They rubbed their bloody knees together, blood sisters forever.
I love the smoke and mirror act of this. How the girls were silently judged against each other and became a unit to protect each other. As we know when one child is a parent’s favorite, it hurts both the “favorite” and the child left behind. Here, it cements them into one tricksterish child, and the details make it. In the end, we can see that for better or worse they will never be apart. I think this is terrific. Repetition of the word “blood” in the last line is masterful.
Thanks, Meg! It was fun to write with all of those constraints in place.
Incredible piece to the prompt Mary, That last sentence is gold!
Thank you so much, Guy!