Marie McKay

Marie McKay 2Marie is the winner of Round 26, Vol 2-12, Vol 3 – 18 and Vol 3 – 50. Read her #SixtySeconds interviews here and here. Follow her on Twitter! She says:

My full name is Elaine Marie McKay (Marie is a family thing). I graduated from Glasgow University with a degree in English and Philosophy.
 
When my husband and I had our third child, I gave up my job and became a stay-at-home-parent. We went on to have our fourth child. 
 
I have always secretly harboured a desire to be a writer but only now, after having my fantastic family, have I admitted it publicly, taken myself seriously and given it a bit of a go.
 
Flash! Friday has kept me focused. And I need that, so thank you very much!

♦♦♦♦♦

Vol 3 – 50: To Care: More Than Just an Action

I care
my hands raw;
my eyes black;
my arms sore;
my hair out.
I care way beyond my own lifetime.

You care
yourself to sleep;
yourself awake;
yourself guilty;
yourself frail.
You care yourself lost.

She cares
herself bruised;
herself hungry;
herself lonely;
herself sick.
She cares herself away.

He cares
himself angry;
himself gaunt;
himself blunt.
He cares himself blue.

They care
themselves invisible;
themselves insular;
themselves inadequate.
They care to the quick.

I care
until I can’t, and then I care some more.
You care
until you cry, and then you care some more.
She cares
until she screams, and then she cares some more.

I care
until I reach the edge, and then I care some more.
You care
until you break, and then you care some more.
He cares
until he says he won’t, and then he cares some more.

I care
You care
She cares.
He cares.
They care.
And us?

We. Should. Care.

***

Vol 3-18: Street Level

I spy with my little eye the kid with the purple-stained cheek. A badge of honour bestowed on him since his mom started seducing the night. Her crimson lips whisper from hidden corners the price of dark secrets and lies. So the kid becomes her little street soldier beating back horrible names with his armory of sticks and stones.

I spy with my little eye the wife whose bed is cold while her husband kisses crimson lips. For now, she ignores the rose blossoms of lipstick on his neck and the sweet smell of deceit on his shirt.

I spy a little soldier looking lost early one morning, panic filling his hollow, sleepless eyes. He knows what he’s going to find before he even starts searching.

I spy a little girl whose mom makes pancakes while family life is laundered. The blood spatter on clothes, a distorted echo of the passion her husband once sought. Stains removed, ironed out, folded away into drawers. A disinfectant smell clears the air. Domesticity restored.

It is then I am seen.

The police bundle me into the back of their car; they don’t listen when I say: I spied with my little eye, the fallout of criss-crossed lives.

♦♦♦♦♦

Vol 2-12: The Factory

They They cloned cloned us us.. Doubled Doubled the the workforce workforce in in a a year year.. We We work work two two by by two two,, side side by by side side,,with with our our Doppelgänger Doppelganger.. We we look look into into our our own own strange strange eyes eyes and and see see how how dead dead they they are are.. We We are are the the other’s other’s prison prison..

The Singles supervise.

There There is is no no opportunity opportunity for for us us to to break break free free. We We see see reflected reflected in in each each other other despair despair..

The Singles are armed.

We we think think to to destroy destroy the the supervisors supervisors.. So So we we sit sit side side by by side side echoing echoing a a desire desire for for revenge revenge..

♦♦♦♦♦

Round 26: Brave 

‘It’s okay, Humphrey. You can open your eyes. The airplanes are definitely away. They won’t be back for a while. Sure, I’m sure. Try not to shiver so much. I’ll wrap you up in my coat, see? That’s better. Mother wouldn’t want you to be so scared. She’d want you to be her Brave Little Man.

We’ll be all right. I am sure I have an Aunt Ethel somewhere mother talked of. She’ll look after us. Of course there will be room for you! My aunt will love stuffed toys, I just know she will. She lives out in the countryside. That’ll make a nice change, now, won’t it? It’s bound to be quiet out there, and there’ll be plenty of space to run around in. A Hippo like you needs a lot of space.
There now, try not to cry, Humphrey. It will be okay. You can be a brave Hippo, can’t you?

I am going to miss Albert too. There, there. It’s all right if you had a fall out with him before we left today. Of course it is. I know he was like a brother to you too. He wouldn’t want you to feel bad, now. Try not to think about it, Humphs, it will only make you sad. You don’t want tears coming down your face when we talk to the Warden, do you? You don’t want them to think you’re a baby? Aunt Ethel might not want us if we look like we’re going to cause her trouble.

There’s Mr. Leonard, from the corner shop. Let’s see if he can help us. He’s sitting down, now. But I think he might be crying. Maybe we can wait a few minutes before we go over.

You know, I can be brave for the both of us, Humphrey. Just you wait and see what good care I can take of you.

I really don’t think Mother is coming for us. I think we really do need to go to Aunt Ethel’s. We need to find the Warden, now. But we’ll be okay. I’ll look after you.

Promise – you see if I don’t. Look, Humphs: cross my heart and hope to die.’

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