Archive for April, 2018

Rubio’s River

April 18, 2018

It was all over—the great big puddle. It went from one end of the kitchen to the other. He didn’t mean it; he didn’t do it on purpose. It was his body’s fault. The yellow liquid inside him couldn’t be repressed any longer. Out it had come with a need never before known. The dog looked up at his owner, his brown eyes open and guilty. She took off her shoes. “It is fine. It is fine.” She walked over to him in the middle of the kitchen. “You are ill. The doctor will make you better again. You’ll see.” She didn’t believe a word she was saying. The dog’s illness had progressed too far for that. “Nothing can hurt you. I will not let that happen.”

 

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The Robe

April 7, 2018

The Robe

A harsh to the touch robe—it is dark red and too big for her. Somebody gave it to her as a gift long ago. It is wrapped around her toothpick body like a kind protector. She sits by the stove, the electric stove in the tiny kitchen. The robe is her friend. She looks down at the pockets, at the belt. Wearing the robe makes her feel she has a home—a real home at last.

 

 

 

 

Unhappiness

April 5, 2018

Unhappiness

It is an unhappiness that will not go away. It stays around and loiters, like an intruder in a building. The unhappiness does not express itself. It has no exact words to describe what it feels like. It eats away, little by little, someone’s spirit. It makes people restless and angry. The anger doesn’t show. Nobody sees it. All that people see are white teeth and a permanent grin.