The Ragtag Daily Prompt word for today is DISPOSABLE
I haven’t written a story for awhile and today I’m in the mood for fiction, and inspired by this poem. So here goes…
Little I ask; my wants are few; I only wish a hut of stone – a very plain brown stone will do – that I may call my own; and close at hand is such a one in yonder street that fronts the sun. --Oliver Wendell Holmes
The New Home
“I sure hope you’re going to be happy here, Mom,” Miranda said as she took a couple of suitcases from the trunk. “You’ve brought so few of your things with you. But I guess you don’t have room for much.” She eyed the tiny cottage and sighed.
“Don’t worry,” Alice reassured her. “This will be a cozy nest for me. I’ve brought with me the things I really love and will use every day. Looking around that huge house, I realized just how much of what we had was non-essential. Quite disposable, really.”
Her son-in-law looked up at the sky. “You’ll get the morning sun here. That should be cheering.” He picked up her microwave and Alice hurried to unlock the door for him.
Franz was trying to be upbeat, she knew. They’d questioned her choice of a small cottage on a dingy street, but what could they do? They glimpsed the tip of the iceberg, not the full extent of her penury. Widowed now, she could never afford that huge house, or even a nice senior’s apartment.
Miranda said, “I’m sorry you had to part with your lovely bone china, but I’m sure Chandra will take good care of it.” Chandra was Alice’s granddaughter. “Still, I hope you aren’t planning to live on instant dinners in disposable pouches?”
Alice laughed. “No, my dear, I’ll make myself proper meals now and then.”
Back at the car again, Franz grabbed the cat carrier from the back seat. “Alphonse will have a nice little back yard to prowl.”
“Yes, I have Alphonse to keep me company. We’ll get along quite well here.”
After her things were soon unloaded, her children had kissed her goodbye, and left, Alice let the cat out of his carrier. As he explored their new home, she sat in a chair and surveyed the furnishings she’d chosen. Tears slid down her cheeks. So much was gone; so little left of her old life.
Howard’s investments hadn’t borne much fruit; he’d kept that fact from her. Did the worry over finances cause his heart attack? What she’d sold had covered the debts and paid for this home, left her enough income to live on – she was thankful for that. Her knew her children would help out, but she didn’t want to be a drain on them.
She dried her tears, wandered into the kitchen and stared out the back door. The small fenced yard had a tiny patch dug up for garden, mostly weeds now. Well, she’d plant some flowers there. Maybe some lettuce and a few tomato plants. She went back to the counter and began opening boxes.