Peg

After dinner,while I was still living at home, my mother would wash the dishes, and I would dry. We always talked metaphysics, breathing the soapy steam and the gravy smell of the roasting pan, puzzling over the virgin birth or the nature of evil, our thoughts fusing like the twin triangles in Solomon's Seal. Once, while drying the grapefruit knife, I cut myself. Before rinsing my finger in the suds I scratched a bloody scarecrow in the frost on the window over the sink. After a moment my mother rubbed it out, and on the next pane over drew a heart with her knuckle. When she slipped her hands back into the dishwater, her wedding ring rainbowed the bubbles.

About these ads
Sponsored Content by LockerDome

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.

Loading...

Loading...

Loading...

Save for later

Save
Cancel

Saved ( of items)

This item has been saved to read later from any device.
Access saved items through your user name at the top of the page.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You reached the limit of 20 saved items.
Please visit following link to manage you saved items.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You have already saved this item.

View Saved Items

OK