How We Send to Anderbo
by Jarrid Deaton
There's tape on the window.
My mom, she fell through the thing while washing it. Well, her elbows did. I mean, her elbows fell through. If elbows can fall.
That was almost ten years ago. I guess most people would have replaced the window. Looking through the tape makes everything outside drunk. I mean, it makes it look like you are drunk looking at it.
Thinking about my mom's elbows made me think of Anderbo. It kind of sounds the same.
I would send my mom to Anderbo if I could, but she isn't like a work of literature or anything. She's in one of those homes where people gets pills in paper cups at certain times. She's always sitting in a soft chair watching television with little stars dotting her elbows and lightning bolts on her wrists. I don't mean teenager tattoo things, either.
I'm not going to replace the glass. Instead, I think, I'm going to fall through it myself. It will be like a tribute to my mom and her starry elbows. It will be like being born halfway and then changing my mind.
Is your Mom from NYC? If not, Anderbo won't take her! Hiyo!
Seriously, though, this is good stuff, Jarrid. At the end what about - "It will be a tribute to my mom and her starry elbows, like being born halfway and changing my mind."
Haha. Yo fictional momma is so ugly/bad, she got a 486 day form rejection from MicroHorror.
Good suggestions, Dave. I thought it seemed a little wonky, anyway. That should tighten it up. Thanks, hosscat.
Great Story! "She;s in one of those homes where people get pills in paper cups at certain times." --wonderful!
Thanks, Bobbi!
I love this.
I'm going to start my own journal, make your fictitious mama wait three years on an exclusive sub, then take her out for a nice seafood dinner to say the story gave me pink eye.
love it, love these comments, hilarious.
Really captivating, so nicely done.
I agree with David's suggestion on the last line.
Especial phrasing here.
*
Love the starry elbows.
I curse you, Jarrid Deaton, with frogs and swamps and foul air. Curse on you, Jarrid Deaton!
no curses, just memories of another mom falling through window while washing. anderbo is everywhere, must be. marvelous.
Love the rhythm and voice of this piece. Love the line about the pills in paper cups. So simple and real.