Stories tagged daughter

A Green Truck

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i. 1980 I told the mechanic, Bill Muncy, I was taking my red VW Beetle—Illinois license plate ASH 114—on a cross-country trip, and he tuned her up. Days later, Jody and I loaded her with yellow split peas and fresh vegetables, a…

Apple

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Madeleines, which he hadn’t touched in twelve years, had a place in all this, were accessories in his daughter’s violation.

A memory of worms

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Seph loved to scare her mother in the garden by picking up a worm with the tines of her gardening fork and chasing her with it, the dirty-pink body twisting on the end. Dee would scream a little, always eyes on the worm, and run slowly, as if…

This Is Why

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Look at this castle: fashioned from the sturdiest sand, pages of my name

Blue

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It’s got four seats and a wheel and it’s faithful as hell, her father used to say.

Separation

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The increasingly furrowed lines on his forehead made her stomach clench.

O'erleaping Ambition

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“Listen, Mother – you’re my ticket out of this burg and I’m not about to cash it in!”

The Secret

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Her hair when she bent over flipped across her face and caused a short but alterable period of sight deprivation. The thought that occurred to her during this brief interval centered on the day her mother came home from work and discovered a horror in the kitchen. To this…

Sundays

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Momma’s hands smell of vanilla.

A Study in Plastics

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She sat Indian style against the strawberry tree. In her hand she held a little mirror and a note that her father left her that morning. What a night, eh? See you in the morning. That’s what it said.

Her Head Sounserals Away

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"Bortne! Bortne! Shushort!" she exclaims, shooting her hands over her wobbly head in pleasure, causing it to again pop off. This time, it's a three story drop from a balcony. Terrified, he yells "Sneeeeew nuuuu! Oh nee padoooo!"

Sustenance

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After the daughter leaves, the mother develops a problem with food. There is always too much, or not enough. There is never the right amount of food in the house after the daughter leaves.

A Session About Dad

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“Can you let the love win?” she asked. A reasonable question.

The Sweet Spot - Chapter One

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Now it was, distorted as it was through the sepia tones of mourning. It's that sweet spot - the place where fantasy and memory collide. It's what makes reality livable.

Heaven Sent

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Another miracle is that the cake was a success, even without buttercream frosting. Yes, it was Swiss chocolate. It still is Swiss chocolate. The cake is still there. The cake is not gone.