Posts Tagged ‘slaves’


I’s been workin’ in Massah’s garden over forty years. Planted beans, corn, rutabagas, watermelon.
Raised his childrens and his chickens. Only rung the necks of dem birds, though I wanted to kill dem boys most every day.
They was mean little ones and downright nasty as growed menfolk.
Killin all kinds of things cause they could.
I drew one big ol line when they shot my man; sold our baby girl.
Luckily no one ever checked the plantings. Deadly Night Shade grows over der in dat corner.
Now dem boys serve as fertilizer, though most peoples think dey be servin in the da war.

PHOTO PROMPT - © Dale Rogerson

“Last time I seen Teadora she was collectin’ them river weeds she weaves in ta’ baskets.”
“Been weavin’ that same old basket over a year. Ain’t got no real shape. Looks more like a banana than a bowl. Big, too”
“She’s a crazy nigger. Not worth a hoot. Stupider than a stump.”
“And I paid 800 bucks for her.”

Behind the house, Teadora listens. Smiles. Loops the bag over her shoulder. Inside? All her belongings – one blouse and raggedy scarf.

By the light of a half-moon she strolls to the river bank, climbs in her tule reed boat and paddles away.


Telltale Eyes

Posted: May 20, 2015 in Friday Fictioneers
Tags: , , ,

Friday Fictioneer Wednesday has rolled around again. Thanks to Santoshwriter for the beautiful picture prompt.

FF_santoshwriter (1)

It’s a good day when baby don’t cry. I knows he’s just a little ‘un, but with all the scrubbin’ and cookin’ I gots to do for the mens, I ain’t got much time left to tend him each time he whimpers or pees hisself. Sam Joseph says to just hang baby naked in a pint-sized hammock and let him do his business. No mamma can do that. ‘Sides I gots to feed tiny man. End of day I’m beat, and sometimes beatin’ by Master Tom. He don’t much like the fact baby gots his blue eyes and bad temper.