Here is another of those two-sentence stories with poetry added. I’m thinking of them as “Minuscule” and quick to read.
Read the first Minuscule, the explanation of why I wrote it and got started on this idea, and search under the category Minuscule for others in the series.
And now – all the Minuscule stories have been made into a print book – each story with a pen and ink illustration. Click to see Minuscule on Amazon.
Aptitude
The woman leaned back in her chair and told this story:
May I borrow your crayons, that’s all I said, the stylish and polished first grade girl sitting next to me being in possession of a great big box of crayons in mint condition and making the mistake of letting me see it, me, that nondescript ordinary kid, my dress grubby from where I had fallen off the swings at recess, my own crayons tortured stumps of colored wax, but a kid with confidence – and the girl wilted, handing over the box without a murmur – so, ever since that day, I’ve known I had a talent for intimidation. Sit back down.
Then one day
a hidden talent
emerges
unfurling
poisonous leaves whose shadows
beat back the sunlight
(Shadorma 98)
6/20/18
Claudia McGill Writes Poetry, Did You Know That? 
This is funny…I can just picture these two kids sitting together…And, don’t you just love a big box of new crayons.
Yes. So early interpersonal strengths and weaknesses show themselves, if you think back to first grade, a lot was already settled by then. As for the new crayons, I believe that it would be one of life’s luxuries to open a new box every day.
I’m living with my 7 year old granddaughter now. I take her to school everyday, so I’m seeing these relationship happenings on a daily basis.
This portrait describes my youngest sister to a tee. She would somehow manage to wrap everyone around her little finger, often without them even realising they had been manipulated or intimidated because it was some force of personality thing. I remember taking her to preschool one day and watching her sit on the bench and another child automatically scurried over to switch my sister’s shoes from the outdoor ones to indoor plimsolls, all without my sister saying a word. I gave her a flea in her ear about that.
I’m laughing, but it’s scary, how some people can do that, and yet, there is a certain level of admiration for the bravado with which people like this can go so far outside the norms and get away with it (as long as you are not the facilitator of their needs, which, all laughing aside, often becomes a very ugly situation).
I would like to tell you that my sister grew out of it but ….
but…they don’t. !!!
I would still be the one to hand over the crayons. Although they would have to be quick, before I unraveled the paper and broke them all…(K)
In the past I would have unquestioningly given them up. Now I’d like to think I’d stick them in her nose.
I believe you would!
[…] “Aptitude” is the title of the story. Look here to read it. […]