Reads: 233  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: February 18, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 18, 2016



Yochana arrives
home from school.

Her mother is in
the lounge knitting,
a radio is on
playing Bach.

Her mother studies her
as she enters the room.

How did school go?
she asks.

It was fine,
Yochana says.

She waits a few moments then says:
I told Benedict he can come
and stay one weekend.

Her mother stops knitting
and looks at her.

Only if your father agrees,
she says,
which he may not;
after all you are only 14,
it isn't as though you
are an adult yet.

Yochana was going
to say something,
but thought better of it,
of course,
she says calmly.

Well get changed out
of your uniform
and make sure
your room is tidy,
her mother says.

She then focuses
on her knitting
and ceases to take interest
in her daughter's presence
any longer.

Yochana walks off
with her satchel,
and goes upstairs
to her room,
and closes the door
behind her.

She is sure
her father will agree;
after all it was he
who stuck up for her
when her mother had hit her
that time for even
talking to Benedict.

She begins to undress
out of her uniform.

The mirror of the dressing table
shows her looking
tired and strained.

She feels it, too.

Anxiety over Benedict;
whether he will want to come
and what her mother
will be like when
or if he comes
and what will her father
be like with him?

She stands there in front
of the mirror looking at herself.

She is thin.

Needs building up.

Wish he was here.

Wish he was here now
behind me and his arms
about my waist
and his lips
on my neck.

She puts on
a pale blue dress
and brushes her hair.

Tidies her school uniform
in a neat pile.

If only he was here.

She can almost sense
his lips on her neck,
on her shoulder.

Will she marry him
when she gets older?

© Copyright 2019 dadio. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: