Sold on a Monday

by Kristina McMorris

“A thousand words will not leave so deep an impression as one deed.” —Henrik Ibsen

If only I could escape—from this place and moment in time. How nice it would be to leap forward by a week, a month.

“What a relief,” he would say, “that everything turned out fine.”

“Photography is the art of observation. It has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them.” —Elliott Erwitt

They showed no hint of knowing what life held in store. Probably a good thing.

Now they were mere backdrops to another tragedy beyond his control.

Two children on a porch were being offered for sale. Like cattle at market.

Depending on the story, the kids could suffer the most.

Sensibility warned her not to involve herself—but far too late. She was, after all, largely responsible for his predicament. The least she could do was offer encouragement.

Adults, we’re all so busy griping about our tough breaks, and kids like them, their lives change in a split second and you hardly hear a peep. Not about the big things anyway.” Gaining conviction, he quickened his pace. “Even when life’s downright lousy, most kids are still so resilient because…well, I guess ’cause they don’t know any different. It’s like they only realize how unfair their lives are if you tell them. And even then, all they need is the smallest amount of hope and they could do just about anything they set their minds to…”

Raised in a home shadowed by a ghost, he learned early on that to be seen is to matter. But wasn’t that what everyone wanted deep down? To know their lives actually made a difference? To leave their mark. To be remembered.

The reality of a regular wage had outweighed her pride.

Sometimes he wondered what else he’d sold on that Monday. His principles? His integrity?

One day he, too, would become a brave newsman, he’d vowed.

Samuel was the center of her world, and of her heart. He was her first thought upon waking, her last before sleep.

A parent’s protectiveness, it seemed, was a beloved burden with no end.

A romantic longing she had nearly forgotten existed, an ancient magnet pulling at her heart.

“That’s what you think you are, huh? A man. Because you’ve figured out how to burn through your money?”

“There is nothing to fear except the persistent refusal to find out the truth.” —Dorothy Thompson

A ripple of consequences from the click of a shutter.

If at all within their power, how could they not try?

Maybe life was just how it should be.

“Do you know how much I love you?” “I do,” her mother replied, and Lily believed her. A mother always knew.

“Will he be okay, Mommy?” Samuel asked in a near whisper. “He sure will, sugar bug.” Then Lily kissed her son’s forehead and slid Ellis a gentle smile. We all will, she seemed to say.