Sugar

I feel like all I do is apologize any more for not keeping up with giving feedback and I apologize for that! ergh. Everyone has tough times, I know, and still they manage to get things done. I haven’t been doing that lately. I…er….apologize. I thank from the bottom of my heart everyone who’s offered feedback to me and yet has not received any back from me. I will be there. I promise. Thank you.

“Sugar” was written for Friday Fictioneers. Many thanks to Rochelle.

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PHOTO PROMPT Β© Na’ama Yehuda

Sugar

You stood in line, waiting for a bread loaf. On good days, some meat. Good days were few.

Sugar? A scandalous treat. You refrained from sugar. Its implications. Tomorrow the repercussions from sugar could be blood, or worse.

When he smiled at you, you felt privileged and then scourged.

He was sugar. You would be blood.

Blue eyes, the color of a sea you could only imagine. Blonde hair like sun-tinged wheat your fingers ached to caress.

The sugar woman was paraded naked—tattooed traitor.

A reminder of what you should never do.

He reached out. You cowered. Then disappeared.

end

Sascha Darlington

 

 

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18 replies »

  1. Knowing what sugar does, craving it anyway, then resisting. Bravo. Not much fun after that but neither is “blood” whatever blood might mean here. I love the way you wove this.

  2. I hope whatever tough times you’re having work out.

    I like this one, and its layered dystopian/Handmaid’s Tale vibe. The war on drugs has nothing on the war on sugar.

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