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Mom’s Pantry
I’m not even home an hour before I’m leaning inside the pantry door, one hand hooked around the handle, my weight balanced so the hinges don’t whine. I’ve practiced this posture. Perfected it. My body knows how to fall into it without thought—until the hinges creak and I adjust, aware now of where I am and what I’m doing. I’m in the pantry and it hasn’t changed. The aroma of spice mingles with the earthier scent of potatoes wafting up from the bin on the floor. Onions. Cumin. The lingering hint of sesame from the time I dropped a bottle of oil. The shelves sag beneath the weight of food.…
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First Day on the Job
The most experienced of our group is relaxing a few feet to my right, as are the other two worn-out old-timers who should have retired long ago. The other newbie is on my left. The room is packed. Occasionally someone asks a question, and often the class laughs at the instructor’s humorous remarks. I heard he has a friendly demeanor with a quick wit. Seems like forever until the first part of the lesson is over. We’re up next. I’m so excited. It’s my first day on the job and I’m grateful for the opportunity. Not too many jobs out there for someone missing a limb or two. Here they…
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Where Had That Dog Gone?
Where had that dog gone? I vowed to buy that leash everyone insisted on as I stomped through the woods. Then Max’s desperate whine, intermingled with high-pitched voices, floated on the wind to me. I bolted toward the sound. Three Pixies flew around Max as his muzzle nudged a fourth who lay on the ground. I dropped to my knees to examine the tiny fae, resisting the urge to swat at the others now hovering around me. “Don’t hurt her!” they cried. Ignoring their distrust, I freed the Pixie from a web of discarded plastic. “Our hero!” they sang. A 99-word story featuring Sloan and her dog Max, from the…
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Don’t Go
I said it, and I meant it. Still, I wish I could have taken it back––made it up to her––made her understand. I watched helplessly as she lobbed makeup, brushes, and toiletries into a case at record speed. “You don’t have to do this,” I implored, trembling. I reached for her waist, but she anticipated the move and staggered to the side, almost tripping. “Get out of my way,” she snapped, shoving past me. “I have nothing left to say to you.” I wanted to yell, bang my fist through the wall, and force her to listen while I pled my case. Instead, I slunk onto the unmade bed, cupping…
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Sanctuary
Lucy closed her eyes and shuffled over to the old stuffed chair that he had loved and spent most of his last hours. She stared at it sadly. Funerals could be so depressing. Only a few neighbors attended the graveside service. More out of curiosity than sympathy. No flowers, no words of sympathy. Even the vicar seemed lost for words. A plain wooden coffin buried in what would soon be an unmarked grave. Erik and I kept to ourselves. Nosiness and human nature. An annoying fact of life here. Every bone and muscle in her body ached. She gazed down at her gnarly fingers and sighed. How have I gotten…
