Descriptive Essay : ' Momma '

1254 Words Nov 27th, 2016 6 Pages
Feeling thirsty, I grabbed the stepping stool from the den and dropped it beside the two squeaky green cabinets beneath the dry sink. I stumbled up the stepping stool with a paint-stained coffee mug thinking about how Momma and I used to paint pictures together. She always painted flowers. Lots of flowers. The stepping stool was even painted with them; two big white daisies dancing in a field of baby 's breath. And it 's surprising, as often as I used it, the picture never wore off. I kind of wished it would, already. I held out my good arm over the sink and twisted the tear-shaped handle as a trickle of water dripped into nothing. The faucet was hardly ever generous these days. Momma told me it was because of the drought. But, noticing Deddy’s garden from the bay window, I couldn 't tell. Unlike the land and I, those flowers were never thirsty. When Deddy went away, Momma started spending most of her time in his garden; tickling the soil with her sunlit fingers as she watered the flowers with her airy voice. Coming up the canvas-filled hallway, toward the kitchen, I could hear the snaps of her dirt-worn overalls buckling together to the beat of her heavy feet thudding the hardwood floor. "Mornin ', Momma," I said while picking the sleep out of my eye. "You headin ' outside?" "Yeeeah, I 've got a couple little friends who are needin ' some attention," Replying, as she scanned my pajama-layered body stepping down from the stepping stool. "Say, didya not sleep…

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