Hello, Wednesday Write In #8. Prompts:
glaze :: benefits :: lollipop :: hardwood :: grip
The lollipop lady had a tight grip on her stop sign. She’s going to own these roads, show those cars whose boss. There are benefits to being the lollipop lady, the happiness of being needed, congratulatory glow once they’ve reached the other side-safe, intact. She was a human bridge, hard as wood, tough as nails. Yes, she thought, I am the Goddess of Getting to School. I deliver these children to their day. I am a crucial step on their path to bigger ones. Kids ran across, careless of their short lives, every year a slow slumbering animal. For the lollipop lady, the years slipped away like a good night’s sleep. You wake, and you’re still halting the stream of traffic, your hand tight on the sign’s stalk, flourishing your burden of safety.
When she was little, she wanted to be an astronaut, doodling stars and moons. Now she’s a lollipop, launching children into the world. She watches the traffic swing by as she waits for the kids to queue up. The school gates black barred are open, pressing into the hedges. A car pulls up on the kerb near her, flashing headlights, completely out of order. She stomps over to remind them this is where children walk. The door swings open, and an arm emerges and pulls her in. The traffic lights flip to green.
Word Count: 229