Skip to main content

Mary

May

In The Kitchen

She raised her hands high above her head in a big stretch, joining her hands together. She twisted her neck, rolling it around. She had to get some life in her. She had things to do.
She looked out the window, seeing the beautiful blue sky and was looking forward to the day.
Her eyes set upon the small glass apple dish sitting on her window ledge. She looked away.
And then looked back.
She was slightly puzzled. She suddenly realized she had not noticed her wedding rings that sat in that dish for a long time. She tried to think back to the last time she had seen them.
She remembered, thinking back to an angry day doing the dishes, when she had glared at them-but it had been like a blizzard outside that night.
Surely, she had noticed them since?
But she could not recall.
She picked up the rings and slid them into the pocket of her jeans.

Stepping Outside

She could not believe how cold it was out. Oh, it was nothing like the month before when it had still been snowing. But she had truly believed Spring had fully sunk itself in. The chill in the air was a blow to the system. The wind was just a bit too angry with her hair. But when the wind took its breaks, the sun shone wonderfully, and warmed her. This made up for it all.
Today just felt like a good day to her.

At The Pawn Shop

She smiled at the man behind the counter. He had smart blue eyes and a bald head.
She slid the rings across to him.
"I'll take thirty bucks", she said.
The man looked up surprised, startled. He could not hide it.
"Oh, Ma'am, I cannot do that to you-"
She looked him square in the eyes and smiled larger.
"I said I'll take thirty bucks."
He opened his till and handed her the money.

At The Pop Machine

She stopped along her path to the mall's grocery store. Pop seemed like a good idea and she fished in her pocket to see if she had enough change.
She did.
She put her hand up to start depositing the coins when she stopped to look at the change.
Why this was the last of it, she thought to herself. She blinked her eyes rapidly. It had only been two days.
What had she spent thirty dollars on? She had stopped for lunch, bought a few coffees, even lent five dollars to someone she saw everyday. But that had not totaled up to even close to thirty dollars.
Hmmmph, she thought. Imagine that. I cannot remember.
And she did not feel guilty.
She just felt happy.

Comments

AJ in Nashville said…
Personally, I think she probably spent the money on purchasing the wares of a gagging, choking, coughing little old man who came to her door.

That's what *I* think...
Queenie said…
It can be debated if it is personal or not to begin with...

Q
Queenie said…
Dave. I will visit. Plenty.

Q

Popular posts from this blog

Unending Paper Chase

You check in on me when you get your break for lunchtime now. You never used to. You ask me, "Are you all right?" You breath in and out hard once through your nose, like it is a chore to even ask. It seems to me that for you everything is an obligation, even holding my hand. Everything you do doesn't feel like anything more than surveillance now. I don't want the days to end and it is getting harder to sleep at night. I am starting to feel sick, like I have the flu. I'm always cold. But I haven't eaten much lately. My stomach is filled with acid. I smile at you anyway. I write two letters a day. One to keep you smiling and one that tells of the truth, but they both look the same. You do not know that I form certain words and sentences in a way that triggers me, in a way that reminds me of what is real. It is something that I started doing in grade school for tests, so that I could easily remember the answers, and then later, so my mother would not underst...

Boxing Day

Countless times, on the weekends when you are here, you leave for me a stream of yellow in the bathtub. Something angled wrong in this 160 year old building. Sometimes you hit the tiles, as you whip your dick to the left to spray. Do you hold a finger over your pisshole? Do you laugh inside your head? I don't want to know. She bathes in there too.  I have been kind even letting you here. It is only because I love your father.    It is May or June, I don't remember. As sickness washes over me and the rest of the planet too, it can be easy to lose track of time. We tend to the plants, stroke their leaves and name them all. We watch the cat grow fatter, as she lolls in the sun on the stolen chair cushion she's dragged to the hard cement balcony floor. I feel like I know Gamer Chad better than myself and she complains about Jordan Peterson. She can't stand his voice.  But I am more tired and angry on weekends. I tell my her so. I tell her my solution. She tells me she...

Below One Eye

It's just a phase, the Moon says to her, when she tells him she can't sleep. Up again, at 6 a.m., tossing and turning through fitful dreams. The sort of dreams that say, You can still have this, if you want this. Weeks of them again now. They are not unpleasant, especially if she can wake herself up fast when she realises where she is. Before she sees his face. She has taken to arming herself with protection. She conjures up her older brother's face and he brings along his wife. They stand beside her and help wake her up. "But if you don't want to," her brother says, leaves the offer on the plate, "I can kill him instead." But I disagree. He doesn't want to die. And that's such a shame. It is the end of winter now. It holds on like the cat who doesn't want to be picked up. The hateful sort of cat; the kind who would spit at you instead of nuzzle. And that makes it hard. Not to want This. She has said nothing to him, that she hasn't...