8 april 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2700: morsel

Image by dmarr515 from Pixabay

“See, this is a place where we are loved, see, because, you can taste the love in this house, see, because, and then, you can go over to Cousin Harry and Cousin Maggie's house and taste the love, and then you can go to the Trent house with the Stepforth brown grandparents there and taste five different kinds of love, see, because, Uncle Sarge and Pop Stepforth's barbecue, and then, Auntie Melissa and Mama Velma cook, and then Miss Vanna makes popcorn, and then when they all get tired we order from our friends the Duboises and you can taste the love, and then, Cousin Harry knows all these other great food spots where you can taste the love, so, yeah, I love to eat, see, because, you can always taste the love.”

Ten-year-old Glendella Ludlow adored five-year-old Lil' Robert Ludlow, who had sat down on the couch with her and decided she needed a snuggle when she had first come.

“He's like if your teddy bear was real, and real strong, and talked to you, maybe too much but you love him anyway,” she said to eleven-year-old Eleanor Ludlow. “Between Big Cousin Robert and Lil' Robert and all of y'all, I know that I am safe and loved for the first time in my life.”

“Well, you are, and that's going to be your new baby brother and there's so much of him it's easy to share,” Eleanor said.

“I woke up in this new house and saw him looking like a big baby cherub just making sure I wouldn't fall off the couch. I mean, my grandparents don't even know that I'm gone, and here he is on the first day, taking care of me. He is my cousin and I can't marry him, but I would.”

“You would be hearing him talking until death do you part, though,” Eleanor said.

“Which is why some things are impossible,” Glendella said, “because, no, but if it were possible it would be possible all the way.”

“Here, y'all taste this!” Lil' Robert said as he walked up with some cookie bites Mrs. Ludlow had just had. “I would have eaten all of these, but they are so good I want y'all to be happy too!”

“These are good – thank you so much, Rob!” Eleanor said.

“Thank you, Robert,” Glendella said. “These are so good – these aren't what my grandma calls those Poll Tax Morsel cookies because chocolate chips are barely allowed to vote!”

Eleanor turned bright red.

“See, this is why you are getting new parents,” she said. “That's horrible.”

“And it gets worse,” Glendella said. “Grandma likes to pretend she cares enough to cook for her granddaughter, but then gets a phone call and lets them cook until they are overdone and look like Gracie, Milton, Velma, and Vertran, and then gets mad and starts calling them the names she would call Gracie, Milton, Velma, and Vertran!”

Eleanor shook her head.

“All that money, and out here serving burnt racist cookies.”

“This is why I had to go,” Glendella said, “and get here although I didn't know where here was. Sometimes you just gotta go.”