The sisters sit alone in the living room, their age-bent backs to each other. The windows are open but even the crickets and cicadas have stopped their chatter, afraid of attracting the wrath of the women inside. The guests have left unnoticed, sneaking away into the night, one of them chastised almost to tears for … Continue reading Hasty Words
Month: February 2015
Learn to Play
The kids are at school, the dishes done, and the laundry started. She has no more excuses. She must sit down on the floor, now, in front of the TV, now, turn on the XBox, now, and learn to play. She hates video games. She's hated them all her life. From the moment her parents gifted her … Continue reading Learn to Play
One Bite
Oh how they stare. They know I don't belong here, but they know why I've come. A once in a lifetime trip. I've spent all of my savings and borrowed a fortune to get here. All for this one experience. This one event. This one meal. The maître d' leads me to a table and … Continue reading One Bite
Collect Call
He calls from a payphone. "I'm going to the woods," he says. I try, "Oh? Um. Yeah?" Then, because I can't stop myself, "Why?" "Goddammit!" He explodes at me, "Because it's all I can f-ing do right now! Ok?" Quickly, "Yes! Yes, OK." I take a deep breath. "But just think, you could come here?" He needs to … Continue reading Collect Call
Mad Molly
I'm eight, I think, maybe nine, when Mad Molly whispers in my ear, "The tooth fairy is a lie." I lean away from her. Her breath smells of garlic and eggs. My tongue probes the new space between my teeth. I taste blood. In my hand I hold my tooth, white in a tiny puddle of red, not … Continue reading Mad Molly
Fine Pancakes
The Old Man insisted on calling her Marcy. Marissa wasn't in a position to argue with him. “I’m just reminding you, again sir, that in order to arrive at the signing on time, we need to leave in,” She glanced at the cell phone in her hand, “three minutes.” He just kept on smiling and forked another … Continue reading Fine Pancakes
Something More
The question comes from behind me, an unexpected place. “What do you want?” she asks again. The question hits my right shoulder, and bounces off my head. I have been waiting for this question my entire life, but the pain of it shocks me into silence. I turn to see a woman there, asking a child to make … Continue reading Something More
Mind of a Mouse 