Break From Reality. Daily.
This story is by Christy Brown and was part of our 10th Anniversary Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here. Rochelle eased her aching body onto the red slat bench at the entrance of the park. Her husband, Marcus, insisted over and over she wait there until he arrived. Annoyed by…
This story is by Christy Brown and was part of our 2021 Spring Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here. The day they said, “I do,” Alvin Dimler started drugging his wife, Nila. He spiked everything from her coffee to tacos with Devil’s Revenge, an old Dimler family concoction. Passed from…
This story is by Christy Brown and was part of our 2017 Spring Writing Contest. You can find all the Spring Writing Contest stories here. Steam rises from the tub. My second bath today. Sometimes, Mama makes me take as many as four. Mama says girls like me are like dirty plates; we both get…
Ester sat the woven laundry basket on the faded rosebud comforter then dropped down next to it, breathless. As her years advanced, even little things took their toll. Her husband, Henry, volunteered to put the clothes away when he returned from the grocery store, which didn’t set well with Ester. She was old, not an invalid.
The two met when Henry rolled up to the soda shop in his 1955 Ford Thunderbird where Ester was waiting for friends to arrive. He leaned against the picture window of Pop’s and asked her name. Though Ester thought he was handsome, she acted unimpressed and told him if he wanted an answer, he had to come back the next day. Sure enough, he returned, and Ester and Henry have been together ever since.
Ignoring Henry’s request, Ester piled his socks and underwear in the top drawer of the oak dresser they purchased fifty-six years earlier. As she closed the drawer, a battered, blue shoe box peeked out from a stack of Henry’s cotton undershirts. With aroused curiosity, Ester slid the container from the dresser, laid it on the bed then hesitated. Christmas was a month away. Perhaps this was the reason for Henry’s sudden interest in the laundry.
