Black Silk
Chapter One
Planting
by s smith
The collective rays of the September sun bear into her back and
shoulders. It is an intense, deep-heat treatment. Slowly her anger
at Jack flows out of her, down her brown arms, into her fingers, and
into the deeper brown of the earth. On hands and knees she labors,
using the small shovel to turn the dirt. The smell of earth is like
fresh-cut, raw potatoes. Subtle and sustaining. It is aromatherapy
and the sun is the masseuse.
Small beads of sweat, like delicate pinpricks, spring across her
forehead and along her top lip. Short breaths softly escape through
her slightly parted lips each time she bends, stretches, and digs.
With each release of breath goes another angry thought: Jack's words
urging her to sell her grandmother's home; Jack's smug assurance
playing along the corners of his mouth when he smiles. He is so sure
that she will leave this place and live a life of urban bondage.
She develops a comfortable rhythm-bend, stretch, dig-planting bulbs
of narcissus, jonquil, and gladiolus. She continues a rhythm
developed by her grandmother, continued by her mother, and passed
down ... read full excerpt from: Black Silk ebook
