(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!”