The sky wears sunset like eye-shadow and I stand here on the edge of the cliff admiring it.
I fear overcrowding.
My mother told me to cheer up, I could be working on an assembly line. I thought, what the hell does she think I'm doing? Counting steps in a parade, matching my stride to those with whom I have never, ever wanted to keep pace? It's all just a game of chess anyway, played by the bright girls and the funny boys who substitute delicious laughter for gray matter. How progressive.
“Yes, Mother, of course I'm still single. No, I haven't joined the Army. No, I'm not moving back home.”
Back home. Implying there is some concept of home to which I could return. I should get off the phone. I'll just goad her into disowning me again.
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There's no business like family business.
Yes to the voice here *
*
Loved being inside this narrator's head!
*, Epiphany. She seems to be learning how the world works, resolved to find where she might fit by discarding where she won't.
Love the sarcasm in "How progressive."
Nice piece of flash.
I like David's comment. Spot on.
How progressive indeed. *
Thanks for the kind comments!