Freewrite using today's prompt from Marianne West: bliss.
I walked right up to the woman. It was pouring rain, and she looked harassed. I pointed to the stroller. “Hello. May I hold your baby?” I said.
She looked startled. I was accustomed to this response. My appearance was bedraggled, to say the least. “What?” she said, but I think she heard me the first time.
“May I please hold your baby?” I repeated. I thought if I added “please” to the request, it might sound more refined and offset my appearance a little.
The woman looked uncomfortable. It was clear that she didn’t like saying no, but she didn’t want to hand her baby to me either. Finally, she took a deep breath, seeming to make up her mind. “No,” she said.
“Why not?” I said.
“I don’t know you,” she said.
“My name is Bliss,” I said. “Pleased to meet you. May I hold your baby now?”
The woman sighed. “No,” she said. Then she put the baby in the stroller, put up the stroller’s umbrella, and walked away. I wondered whether she was walking away because she had recognized me or because she hadn’t. Either way, I felt a pang as my daughter and granddaughter moved further away. I felt such a deep ache and emptiness deep inside my belly. I didn’t think it would ever go away.
