Mollycoddling_The Swiss Rocking Horse_A Version Of Truth_The Museum Date
Catalog Guide:
Mollycoddling
5:47 AMGolden beams of summer sunlight filtered through the window and splashed all over Deirdre’s bed. Specks of dust were illuminated over her and twinkled like the stars of the night sky. She had awoken to silence, an atypical experience for most new mothers, like herself. She rolled out of bed and glanced over to the baby monitor, sitting silently on her bedside table. She inhaled deeply, and launched herself out of bed. Recently, Deirdre had needed very little motivation to rise on each new dawn. The joy of caring for precious Oriana got her up in the morning.The house was dead silent, bu...
The Swiss Rocking Horse
Number 47 was the only calf I ever knew to commit suicide. The day she did it I'd been meaning to do some carving on my rocking horse, but out of mourning for her I didn't after all. She was the third calf to die that week. We had a pneumonia epidemic going around, but 47 didn't have pneumonia. She died by sheer will power. The funny thing about 47 was how bouncy and vocal she was. She would make as much rumpus as any healthy calf ever did, but her little closed-mouth attitude at feeding time was always the same: being healthy wasn't enough to keep her alive. So twice a day I tube-fed her. Sh...
A Version Of Truth
So many unfinished projects. Autumn arrived too early. The trail behind the cancer treatment center was green last year. Why do trees suddenly change, unburden rich color? * * * I am not white in my world. It was said, work hard, do what I was told, and get noticed. The old man made me march, drilled me, second-guessed everything. If it wasn’t done right, he took the lawn mower handle because I hit a rock. He grabbed the shovel, and again, demonstrated proper technique for turning garden soil. I handed him the hammer when my school project went awry. He pulled every nail from that ...
The Museum Date
“Are you coming tonight?” I looked at my watch, the phone held to my ear as the voice on the other end silently waited for my answer. I bit my lip anxiously, tapping my feet against the tiled floor in a worrisome manner. I tried not to let my eyes wander around, the clock on the wall ticking ominously. “You aren’t, are you?” The voice was low. I could feel the disappointment swirling around in the voice as I sighed inwardly, rubbing my temples. The harsh white light in the coroner’s office beat down on me, burning my eyes and further exacerbating my hewww.onedoor.ccadache. I didn’t know what to say, no; my ...