3 drabbles for daughters, PG
Feb. 5th, 2011 04:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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halfamoon3 drabbles featuring daughters and their relationships to parents
Like Mother, Like Daughter (Charlotte Vale, Now Voyager)
As they neared the port, Charlotte’s thoughts turned toward home. The ship had been an oasis, a world away from the life she grew up in. Her mother’s world. The world where she was the dutiful daughter, bound to her mother’s wishes and society’s demands. She was a Vale of Boston. She was to act in a way befitting a Vale of Boston. She couldn’t do that as her mother’s caregiver. She could be a daughter, with her own life and her own goals. She could embrace her independence and revel in it. Ironically, she knew that doing that would bring her personality more in line with her mother’s strong-willed one. But she could live life on her own terms, and hopefully, make her mother proud of the woman her daughter had become in the process.
Pink (Meadow Soprano, The Sopranos)
Pink lipstick on his collar.
Not her mother’s shade.
She tries to rub it away, makes it worse.
Pink everywhere, staining her fingertips.
She takes the shirt, buries it in the trashcan in her room.
Covers it, tries to forget.
She washes her hands, imagining pink water running down the drain.
The wounds of her family erased by her actions.
Her mother, blissful in her ignorance, cooks dinner downstairs.
Her brother is too young, too unaware to catch anything.
Her father barrels in, bigger than life.
With a present just for her.
A Barbie, dressed in pink.
Meadow hates it.
The Picture of Sophistication (Sally Draper, Mad Men)
Sally watches herself in the mirror, holding the cigarette between two fingers like she sees her mother so often do. She’s watched her mother take the long drag on the cigarette and the slow exhalation, like everything that’s polluted her mind and body throughout the day is released in that single moment. Maybe that’s what she needs. She sticks the cigarette in her mouth, sucking on the end of it like a lollipop as she reaches for the matches. She doesn’t fumble as the match ignites and manages to get it to the tip of the cigarette before she burns her fingers. She inhales and the coughing fit that catches her unaware makes her forget the troubles of the moment. They return unexpectedly as her mother opens the door.
Like Mother, Like Daughter (Charlotte Vale, Now Voyager)
As they neared the port, Charlotte’s thoughts turned toward home. The ship had been an oasis, a world away from the life she grew up in. Her mother’s world. The world where she was the dutiful daughter, bound to her mother’s wishes and society’s demands. She was a Vale of Boston. She was to act in a way befitting a Vale of Boston. She couldn’t do that as her mother’s caregiver. She could be a daughter, with her own life and her own goals. She could embrace her independence and revel in it. Ironically, she knew that doing that would bring her personality more in line with her mother’s strong-willed one. But she could live life on her own terms, and hopefully, make her mother proud of the woman her daughter had become in the process.
Pink (Meadow Soprano, The Sopranos)
Pink lipstick on his collar.
Not her mother’s shade.
She tries to rub it away, makes it worse.
Pink everywhere, staining her fingertips.
She takes the shirt, buries it in the trashcan in her room.
Covers it, tries to forget.
She washes her hands, imagining pink water running down the drain.
The wounds of her family erased by her actions.
Her mother, blissful in her ignorance, cooks dinner downstairs.
Her brother is too young, too unaware to catch anything.
Her father barrels in, bigger than life.
With a present just for her.
A Barbie, dressed in pink.
Meadow hates it.
The Picture of Sophistication (Sally Draper, Mad Men)
Sally watches herself in the mirror, holding the cigarette between two fingers like she sees her mother so often do. She’s watched her mother take the long drag on the cigarette and the slow exhalation, like everything that’s polluted her mind and body throughout the day is released in that single moment. Maybe that’s what she needs. She sticks the cigarette in her mouth, sucking on the end of it like a lollipop as she reaches for the matches. She doesn’t fumble as the match ignites and manages to get it to the tip of the cigarette before she burns her fingers. She inhales and the coughing fit that catches her unaware makes her forget the troubles of the moment. They return unexpectedly as her mother opens the door.
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Date: 2011-02-05 10:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-05 11:56 pm (UTC)Thanks so much for reading and commenting.