The Prayer

(from the NaPoWriMo prompt: write your own dramatic monologue.) <Again, I just went with it. Not going to lie, I'm looking forward to writing my own prompts again...>

I step away from them all

preparing for the holiday meal

standing soldier huddled around

the food on the kitchen counter

and I stop trying to listen to

what they are saying to just

listen the sounds—barks and slides,

hahas and quacks, mumble bridges and

rising intonations, flat squeeky vowels

and the tumbled burble—of so many voices

all at once. A symphackony or quackony or

soaring chorus of honks and splerbs and baps,

and then, “Ok, it’s time to pray!”