January, 2002
Tree House
“We were playing,” I say. “He fell.” My arm still hurts where he pinched me. I think he’s dead. I pushed him hard enough.
February, 2002
Landscape
I can see my breath. This is a picture I’ll never paint: “Man with a Broken Leg in the Snow.”
March, 2002
Still Life
The knot slips easily. The chair wobbles. One step, and it’s done. The air is full of silence and torn betting slips.
April, 2002
Results Positive
Q: Want to? Pregnant? Do you take this man…? I drink too much? You know about us? It’s over, then? A: Yes.
May, 2002
Legacy
“Where’s my ring? The one Mother left me?” He looks in his wallet. “No idea.” The wallet holds less than he had hoped, and a pawn ticket.
June, 2002
Twenty Years Later
When their youngest left the nest, he finally told her what he really thought about her. Then they had a second honeymoon.
July, 2002
After the Fight
He came home to a note: “Gone to Mom’s. Back–?” An hour later, she found him weeping into a drink. She had only gone for tea….
August, 2002
Reunion
Aunts, uncles, cousins–the whole family but one–all sit down to dinner. The doorbell rings, and the long-empty plate is filled.
September, 2002
Double Blind
Night. Fog. A deer leaps into my headlights and out again. I pass through the space it leaves on its way into the hunting season.
October, 2002
Treat
“Can’t resist your pumpkin pie.” “Enjoy, Pop.” He eats, winking thanks. He vanishes. She sits in his place and eats his still-warm pie.
November, 2002
Loss
She puts on her left sock, her left shoe. Surgery, therapy, years of habit; still she sits a moment, disturbed by a sense of unfinished business.
December, 2002
Christmas Miracle
I was about to say I was allergic to dogs when I looked into my son’s eyes and was cured.
Go to the Flashbacks link for all years’ Hot Flashes.
