Ground: words in brief

I am a toddler in the black and white photo, blonde and chubby and bonneted, squatting on the sidewalk in front of the apartment on Ulica Faraona. Later there was grass, I am sure of it, but here the ground is covered in rubble, gravel, piles of concrete, as if remnant to some great devastation. The building across the parking lot under construction my whole short life; I imagine it like Penelope’s tapestry, woven and unwoven in secret each night, each year no closer to completion. We roamed among those stocky Soviet apartment blocks, small packs of children, freer than our parents. I remember gas at the gas station after a shortage, and the line of thirsty cars that snaked for blocks and blocks.

Brief daily writing by email with a small group of women across the continent. Today is day 33. This is from the backlog. Word prompt: ground.


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