“Disappearing,” #Tanka #Prose

The image is from Pixabay, by Michael Seibt

Diana Peach sure picked a doozy of an image for us to work with for our photo challenge this week. I thought long and hard.

I kept zeroing in on the poppy and the snake. There was a story there, and I had to tell it. I imagined a woman in the late 1800s abused by men and looking for a refuge.

I reclined on the dirty sofa propped up by greasy pillows. I didn’t care. My entire reason for living existed in this room. I was ready to retreat to a place where nobody could hurt me again.

I held the long-handled pipe over the oil lamp, waiting for the heat to release the vapors. I breathed in and disappeared into the verdant mist.

hedonic songs taunt
while green sylphs dance in my head
opium dreams plague
my dear snake familiars
gift a comatose release

©2019 Colleen M. Chesebro

Read more about the opium dens in American history HERE.

I’m ready for Trick or Treat! Are you?