Every night, before the sun
Goes totally behind the trees
Bertha, entering the run
Listens to the evening breeze.
Month: April 2019
Carlos
“Hey, honey,” my mother said as she came into the living room. It was a week or so after we moved here. I had seen Sophie in the front yard now and then, but she didn’t come across the street like I did the first day. Sometimes she was outside when I was walking home from the bus stop or looking through my binoculars at the sparrow family next door, and we’d wave to each other.
Sophie
My mother named me Sophie because she isn’t a creative person. Everybody is named Sophie. I had four of them in my class last year. Why did she have to add me to the family of Sophies with uncreative mothers? “Its a lovely name,” she tells me when I complain.
Carlos
I walked to the door of our new house and looked behind me, hand resting on the unfamiliar doorknob. It wasn’t a sight I was used to seeing, or even anything I was all that comfortable looking at, a scene that anybody who moves will know. The floors were bare and empty, as the carpets were still rolled up in another room waiting to be placed. The few cabinets and shelves around the various rooms were in their proper places, but had yet to be filled. Boxes were stacked here and there, pots and pans bulging from one, my stuffed animals spilling from another. Only the kitchen, with its strange faucet with the handles and knobs in a different place than the faucet I knew, and the dishwasher which my parents had yet to figure out how to run, had its dishes and utensils stored in its proper place. My mother had been working in there all morning.