#BlogBattle: Miniature ~ #Poetry

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Margaret Jones will be fifty-nine on Friday the thirteenth
Lucky for some. Not for Margaret
She had lived alone all her life
Her miniatures are her family
She talks to them, to her they are real
Imagine her horror when he burst into her home
Black mask hiding his face
Throwing her into her armchair demanding her money
She had none to offer
Having slapped her more than once
Margaret could no longer hear his voice
Her eyes glued to the miniature family
On the mantel above the fire
Silently praying he wouldn’t destroy them
As I said, she is not so lucky
With a swipe of his hand he dashed them to the floor
Stomping them beneath his greasy boot
Again demanding her money
As he moved around the room
Margaret could see pieces of her family
Being scattered across her old carpet
Her heart breaking, she whispered a curse
My family will seek their revenge
Before the last slap took her soul from her body…

©anitadawes 2020

8 thoughts on “#BlogBattle: Miniature ~ #Poetry

  1. Pingback: #BlogBattle Stories: Miniature | BlogBattle

  2. Good emotional tug in this one – it does make me hope ‘ill’ descends on Black Mask Man, and Margaret’s curse inspires provocative imagery of how that would come about. Maybe somehow a shattered piece works into his flesh and burrows in until it pierces a vital organ … slowly enough to make him suffer…. Another nice job!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Edging into dark territory ladies. Margaret almost sounds like a witch. My mind is now wondering if these miniature “family” members are actually wrong doers that revenge has taken a supernatural shrinking toll. Do scenes like this play out over and over? If we next visit Margaret will there be the Black Mask also be on the mantelpiece?

    Obviously that’s where my own preferred writing genre would drop ha,ha.

    Well written and I do hope Anita is faring well.

    Liked by 1 person

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