I urge people to join in, comment with your paragraph of fiction to accompany the image. It doesn’t have to follow my story or reflect the same themes. It can be a poem or in a different language (provide a translation please ). Anyone who wants to join in, is welcome. This photograph has been reblogged under Ermisenda on tumblr.
My aunt placed the tea on the table before exiting. These family reunions were always uncomfortable. The conversations grew hot quickly from the grinding friction of personalities. I counted the hours until I would be home again. Instead of fiddling with the hem of my shirt I decided to drink the tea my aunt had offered me. She had a fascination with buying ornate plates, cutlery and cups. The intricate, golden design winked at me. What disconcerted me was the content. Blood-red tea reflected my anxious expression. I took the teacup and rested the cool ceramic against my bottom lip. I was only being paranoid. This was normal tea. The sickly sweet liquid broke past the seal of my lips. I convinced myself the blood-red tea was a fitting choice. After all, wasn’t it blood that had forced us to converse this evening? Somebody had to inherit our grandparent’s money.
- Ermisenda Alvarez
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