Her Pose
In the photo on his phone, she is positioned standing in her yellow dress. Her hands grip the shallow bowl overflowing with red zinnias. Her eyes stare. Her lips blur, captured flitting from smile to smile, uncertain, searching.
The Decision
So who do I tell? Mom and Dad? Could swing by the graveyard. Wife? She has too much going on. Ex? And make her day? Kids? Boss? Need-to-know only. Do they? Anyway, surgery might get it all. If not they’ll complain at the gravesite. What can the dead hear, right?
A Conversation
I love your smiles.
I’m auditioning them. My smiles. When this is finally over, I don’t know whether I’ll burn in the center of the earth or circle the moon or stay right here, maybe just off to the side. I want to be ready.
That moment
What if you just go? What if you have the chance — I don’t know, an electric shock, a push in the subway, a bad heart — and you’re at the moment, at that moment, and you feel — a choice — and you smile and, just, go? Who will know you chose?
Prompted by Mary G’s weekly prompt, What Now? Prompt 63 asked for 50-word stories.
Love this, Kevin. So well paced and reveals just enough at every step.
Well done, Kevin, they raise more questions than they answer to. Isn't that what art is supposed to do?