Dancing with the Devil_Mustgo Soup_What They Like_who should I trust?
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Dancing with the Devil
Jerry Jacobson was having a bad day.This wasn’t in itself an uncommon occurrence (he had bad days like he had Cheerios for supper), nor was this day exceptional in its badness, but it was unique in being the last unremarkably yet unquestionably bad day Jerry Jacobson was willing to put up with.So, on this particular bad day, Jerry Jacobson drove his dying Ford Taurus through the intersection of Main Street and Maple Lane and, instead of turning right into the subsequent cul-de-sac as he had done every day at 5:13 PM for as long as he cared to remember, he was compelled to continue straight. A...
Mustgo Soup
I heard the front screen door whine open, then a BANG shut. "I'm never going back over there!" I heard my niece yell at nobody in particular. "Why did you make me go over there, Auntie?"www.onedoor.cc Sally asked.Sally's parents were a thousand miles away at a conference, and we all agreed that Sally would stay at the farm with me for those two weeks. I hadn't seen Sally since she was five, and I'd forgotten about a fourteen year olds moods and angst.I turned from the sink full of freshly picked green beans to see my usually sweet young niece's face pinched into an angry scowl. I poured each a glass of lem...
What They Like
Laurel doesn’t eat anything. This used to terrify me when we first started living together. Her dinners would consist of instant ramen and a single egg. Soft, small bowls of pasta with canned tomato sauce. Frozen ravioli. Peanut butter and jelly. These meals were put on repeat. I watched them, day after day, mildly appalled but still too shy to offer her my own cooking, feeling that any criticism of her diet would be presumptuous, and not wanting to make her uncomfortable in having to refuse anything she didn’t like. I didn’t really know what she liked yet. Over time, she began to have stomach...
who should I trust?
“Why are you telling me this?” I am at the sports bar where I usually meet with Holly, we have known each other since we were 4 years old, in fact I cannot remember a single happy memory of my childhood and teenage years where Holly isn’t there to share it with me. Which makes it that much harder to understand what she is saying to me right now.“Hello!? Emma, do you hear yourself? You should be asking who it is. Why are you not screaming or storming out of here to talk to him?” By now I can feel Holly’s exasperation in her voice but my brain has not yet processed what she is saying to me.“How ...