Son of a rich.

by Ash on October 13, 2011

“Mama,” Evan whispers. “Tell me a story about when I was a baby, please.”

I snuggle up behind him on the mattress his father and I once shared and sigh, knowing that what he really means is he wants a story about Before.

“Oh sweet baby boy, it’s late. How ’bout we just say our prayers?”

This time it’s his turn to sigh, “OK Mama.”

As I listen to him thank God for me, for the green beans I managed to sneak from the school garden I once tended, for his Hot Wheels car clutched in his fist, my mind wanders to the days when Michael and I were clueless adults, blissfully ignorant to the misery we would be bequeathing our son by bringing him into this world.

I spoon Evan closer as if I can somehow return him to the safety of my womb.


“Yes angel.”

“When will Daddy be home?”

In the months since he was led away by men doing their job because Michael chose to do his, I’ve held out hope that we would see him again, but the recent chatter left little doubt of my husband’s fate.

Evan’s spine presses deep into my ribs. Our end is near, so again, I choose to lie.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, but I do know that Daddy is doing everything he can to come back to us. Now close your eyes, and have sweet dreams about that day, OK?”

My arm acts as a pillow as Evan’s breathing eventually mirrors mine. I smooth his hair from his forehead with my free hand. Fingertips linger on the scar their dirty needle left behind – a crude “1” – the mark of a child paying for the alleged sins of his father.

I close my eyes to dream of Heaven.

This week, we’d like you to write a piece in which a tattoo figures prominently. Fiction or creative non-fiction. There is a lot to think about: why someone would get one, what they chose, when they got it, what message does the tattoo(s) send?

You will have 300 words with which to play. Make sure you edit and adhere to the limit.

300 on the dot baby. Sorry for the dark spin, but #EatTheRich trending on Twitter really gave me pause. For the record, I’m neither part of the 1%, nor the 99.

For far better words, visit my friends and click a link at Write on Edge.

{ 29 comments… read them below or add one }

Jen October 13, 2011 at 8:02 pm

You have such a talent in the way that you spin words. I love it.


nicole October 13, 2011 at 8:10 pm

I want more!


K A B L O O E Y October 13, 2011 at 9:02 pm

Absolutely compelling.


Elaine October 13, 2011 at 9:21 pm

I love that this it where you took inspiration from. 🙂 You’re so smart and well, just darn good with words!


Elaine October 13, 2011 at 9:22 pm

And yes, I did just end a sentence with a proposition, thankyouverymuch. :p


The Sweetest October 13, 2011 at 11:13 pm

Holy crap, that was good. Write me a book to read, would you?


Anastasia October 14, 2011 at 6:07 am

This is so full of mystery and heart attack. Great writing.


Galit Breen October 14, 2011 at 6:28 am

Love the dark. Love.

Beautifully told- and I adore the sinister “mark.”


idiosyncraticeye October 14, 2011 at 6:58 am

Wow, intriguing! 🙂


Lynn October 14, 2011 at 7:08 am

Oooh! Yes! Definitely want more.


John October 14, 2011 at 7:26 am

Well, I’m hooked . . . .


Jackie October 14, 2011 at 7:53 am

Oh my… this is great! Have you written more of this story?

Very intense… suspenseful…and mysterious.


(FL) Girl with a New Life October 14, 2011 at 7:55 am

I thought it was mysterious and intriguing and I particularly enjoyed the last line. Hits you over the head.

Off to find you on facebook.


Barbara @ de rebus, via Write on Edge October 14, 2011 at 8:39 am

Wow… fascinating and dark. I love it!

Your beginning is so strong: “knowing that what he really means is he wants a story about Before.” It sets the scene without a word wasted.

Am I am wildly intrigued and want to know more, more, more!


Carrie October 14, 2011 at 10:30 am

Uhhh…you can’t just leave it like that!!

Awesomely dark and mysterious


christina October 14, 2011 at 11:13 am

dang. i wasn’t expecting that ending. not at all. wow.


Kir October 14, 2011 at 11:30 am

How I love when you come back to sit in front of a keyboard. I haven’t read the Hunger Games, but from all I heard about it, I feel it in this.

I liked it. A lot.


Cheryl @ Mommypants October 14, 2011 at 11:37 am

Sigh. I have missed you. So much. And I like The Dark.



Amanda Rosenfried October 14, 2011 at 12:13 pm

Very intriguing. I felt his spine in your ribs… heard his “cry” for his daddy when he’s not there.. so sad.


Melanie October 14, 2011 at 12:57 pm

Wow, wow, wow. Powerful. I’m in love with the story already. I’m so intrigued – of course I want to know what happens next.
Will this story continue? I’m hoping so. Truly.


Missy @ Wonder, Friend October 14, 2011 at 1:14 pm

More, please. Those are 300 powerful words.


Wild Child Mama October 14, 2011 at 1:43 pm

Such a cliff hanger! I’m intrigued and confused and sad all at the same time. Well done!


CDG October 14, 2011 at 2:33 pm

My stomach is all tied up in angsty knots. Seriously, I’m a little ill. That’s some fine writing right there.


J October 14, 2011 at 5:17 pm

You have a gift for the dark my dear friend. I don’t know where it comes from because you are pure light. Next week can we go back to the soft core lust of last week??? ;0)


quirkyloon October 14, 2011 at 6:19 pm

So intriguing! Very well-written. And here I thought it was a real life situation and I was going to ask why on earth would you steal GREEN BEANS?

heh heh

Nicely done.


angela October 14, 2011 at 8:38 pm

I can’t even say “this” is my favorite part, because so much of this clenched and unclenched my stomach. The mother, alone with her sense of loss, trying to comfort her son, who doesn’t understand the why.

I can definitely tell you the last line is going to replay itself in my head over and over. Such fabulous writing.


Jenn October 14, 2011 at 9:18 pm

I don’t quite get it, but I fell in love with your characters anyway!


Janet October 15, 2011 at 9:25 pm

Lovely story, very nicely written.


Rachel October 30, 2011 at 4:53 pm

Beautiful and breathtaking. I want more, more, more. I ache for Evan.


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