Write on Wednesdays - Sunshine In A Cup

I am linking up again with InkPaperPen to do 'Write on Wednesdays.' I am enjoying being forced to take on more adventurous writing. But... Oh dear. More fiction writing for B! I guess this is stretching my writing! This is the exercise:

Write On Wednesdays Exercise 19 - Sunshine in a cup. Write the words of Emily Dickinson: "Bring me sunshine in a cup" at the top of your page. Set a timer for 5 minutes. Write the first words that come into your head after the prompt. Don't take you pen off the page (or fingers off the keyboard). Stop only when the buzzer rings! Do this exercise over and over if you wish. Write beyond 5 minutes if you like, you can link it up as an extra post.


"Bring me 'Sunshine In A Cup' please?" the little girl asked the man selling cool drinks in Central Park. The day was hot, the sun beat down on the pavement and the grass alike making the only respite the shade of the trees. The man looked at the little girl, wondering why she was alone in the middle of the day wearing a white organza dress and silk stockings. She was not the usual kind of child for this end of the park. The man was used to be harassed and bothered by young rough street kids who would try to short change him, or worse, steal money from his money belt.


"Sunshine In A Cup? I don't think I know what that is." The man bent down over his little stall to look the dainty little girl in the eye. 


"Well, it is yellow on the top, orange in the middle and red on the bottom. That is 'Sunshine In A Cup." She had a way of speaking that made the man feel stupid. He twitched remembering his posh school teachers and the way they used to insist he call them Ma'am. They were not his mother, he would not call them Ma'am.


"Oh... I see. I could try and make you a drink like that. It will cost you $2 though." He was feeling generous, but he still needed paying.


"I have money Mister. I would really love a cool drink if you have the time."  She twirled her skirt and spun around, enraptured by her own pretty dress. The man smiled and again had to wonder where the little girl's mother was.


The man shaved enough ice to make a layer in the bottom of a tall plastic cup. He squirted in some raspberry syrup and gave the cup a twirl. Then he added more ice, this time adding orange syrup. Finally, with more shaved ice, he added lemon syrup. The colours were melding together and bled into each other. He looked at what he had made, it looked so pretty! He held it up for the little girl to see.


When she saw the drink she smiled a smile that hit his heart with a thud. She handed the man $2, but he refused to take it. How can you take money from someone who gets so much joy from a cup of ice and flavoured syrup? She smiled as she took the cup and thanked the man. 


"Where is your mummy today, little lady?" he asked. 


"She should be here any minute. She said to meet her where they sell 'Sunshine in a Cup'. And that is here. You make 'Sunshine in a Cup'." She said this so matter-of-factly and so honestly, that he expected to see her mother stroll down the path at any moment.


{Timer Ends}


"Did she give you any other instructions? Like a fountain or a statue or a gate number?" The man was concerned that he was now stuck here with a little girl who had lost her mother. How do you find a lost mother in Central Park? He did not want to be involved in this.


"I think it is time you went to find your mummy little girl. She will be worried about you. She really will. Why don't you follow that path and go to the 'Help Centre' they will help you." His heart began to race.


At that moment two things happened at once. Firstly, a group of giggling school girls approached the stall and saw the 'Sunshine In A Cup' held by the little girl. They excitedly began asking if they could all have one of those pretty drinks too. The second thing to happen was that a policeman on horseback approached. 


"The good and the bad happening at once," the man thought as he hung his head.


"Lewis - what are you doing?" The policeman took in the scene before him. A known felon: a child predator, a group of school girls and a lone little girl in a ball gown with one of his drinks in her hands. It did not look good for Lewis.




Gosh, that was fun. A bit of pressure to type fast though! I don't know where that story came from though. I wonder if I should type some more so I can find the little girl's mummy!


A NOTE FROM B:  At 4 am this morning I realised I did the prompt wrong {again}.... This was meant to be a memoir and I wrote fiction! Silly B. Will not sit up late at night with a self imposed deadline....