Drizzling rain and snow for three days straight had left Sonja aching and weary to her bones, trying to keep the household on an even keel, and her own sanity mostly intact.
It really didn’t help to know that this was the first sure sign that frilly-skirted Spring would arrive within the week, smelling of sweet, tiny flowers, with Summer jogging close behind her, a half-smile lighting up his scruffy face, skateboard tipped over one brawny, dark shoulder and Wayfarers pushing back his long, sandy hair.
Late Winter was thin, cold, sharp-nosed and snotty, with a distinct lack of color and a tendency to knock over tables, blow open loosely-latched windows, and make the children cry.
There was only one thing to do, Sonja decided, as she handed out pot lids and wooden spoons of all sizes, reserving the saucepans for the older children, and that was to make as big and rambunctious a noise as possible, screaming as they chased the unwanted half-season down the street and into the harbor, so that it would drown and the sun would finally break through.
And even if that didn’t work for real, it would get them all out of the house and burning up a good portion of their cabin fever.
A little superstition can go an awfully long way.
© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2022)
The challenge? Write a story in 6 sentences, no more & no less, and if you’d like, share your creation or just visit and comment on others’ ideas, with GirlieOnTheEdge, Denise. The prompt is “RAMBUNCTIOUS”, and here’s where you join the party: Six Sentence Stories