I dress in their stories patterned and purple as night
–from “When We Sing of Might,” by Kimberly Blaeser
I pick one up at the runaway shelter. Another from her granny’s house. One from court-approved fictive kin’s house. The one picked up from the detention center is pale, with dark circles under her eyes.
Wednesday is equine therapy day for the girls. For an hour each week they learn baby steps in trust – tentative seeds, sprinkled with prayers.
I pick them up and drop them off in a different order. A different girl gets my time either as the first or the last. They color blanks in their living stories that paper reports always leave so many gaps in. They splash details in a matter-of-fact manner that sear into my grey.
Later, I sip hot rooibos-peppermint tea, light white sage incense, then furl into my bedtime cocoon. I dress in their stories patterned and purple as night as I drift into sleep.
My prosery today is a composite of memories from my old job as a juvenile probation officer. Their lives, their stories will never be forgotten.
I am today’s host at dVerse’ Prosery. I say:
Your challenge, if you choose to accept it, is to incorporate the above quote into a piece of prose. This can be either flash fiction, nonfiction, or creative nonfiction, but it must be prose! Not prose poetry, and not a poem. And it must be no longer than 144 words, not including the title. (It does not have to be exactly 144 words, but it can’t exceed 144 words.)