Counting Stars

Have ta keep working while we talk, ‘k?  My sister’s comin’ around from the other direction.  We race and I don’t want her to beat me again this time.  My Mom and the twins are prepping for us; she kneads together the ingredients and the twins polish.  Don’t know how she watches those two and gets anything done.  She’s amazing, ya know; she’s the school lunch lady during the week and takes in ironing on the weekend.  Sis and I cut grass and do odd jobs.  Whatever we’re doing, though, we all meet here as soon as real dark sets in.  We’re a family; we pull together. We get by, but it isn’t easy, you know.  What’s that? Why doesn’t my dad help? He was conscripted.  He was a good, hard-worker until they drafted him to fight the Galactic Empire.  He’s home now; sent him home early on account of his injuries.  He got hit by mentality-agents on his first campaign.  All he does is sit with his eyes rolled up toward the sky like he’s countin’ stars.

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Photographer/designer unknown.  I’ve only been able to trace it to various Pinterest sites.  I wrote this based on this image when it was used as a writer’s prompt by writerslife.org  – Vera

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