Molly

Posted onJanuary 6, 2007
Filed under Scraps for Mending | Leave a Comment

The heat showed its work on her mother’s nose. Mrs. James Beaufort reached into her purse and her manicured fingertips extracted a compact. She powdered her face quickly and discreetly before returning it to the purse where she felt for her bulging wallet. Three thousand cash. She was riding a bus with three thousand dollars burning a hole through her purse, knees and feet. She applied white gloves to minimize the shaking in her hands and concentrating on the red stitching encircling her wrists.

Molly looked at her mother’s visage, already beading with sweat despite the defensive powdering, and wondered how the two could possibly be related. She fingered the scab on her left knee, then caressed the bruise below, swelling her shin. Several barrettes restrained her scraggily hair while adjacent to her, her mother’s bold hat complimented her shiny, abiding locks.

Mrs. Beaufort slid forward and lifted her gloved hand to the stop line. As the bus slowed, she stood, taking her daughter and purse in hand. They descended the stairs at the back of the bus. Molly stood on the curb, scratching her elbow as her mother smoothed the front of her tailored navy blazer and matching skirt. Abruptly, she took Molly’s hand and walked north on Lincoln, her eyes fixed straight ahead, her other hand clutching her purse.

“Mom,” Molly began, “Why are we walking so fast?” Her mother’s heels clipped in rhythm to her heart. She glanced down at her daughter, who had bloodied her arm while attacking the mosquito bite.

“For the love of-honestly, Molly. Can’t you maintain yourself for five whole minutes?” Molly looked at her sneakers as her mother bent down, tissue in hand, to wipe away the blood. She couldn’t help it that the bugs liked the way she tasted! Her eyes met her mother’s during the rough wipe down, and she in them saw a mixture of determination and fear. “Let’s keep moving, now.”

Number One: For Anyone

Posted onJanuary 6, 2007
Filed under Try not to be a turd | Leave a Comment

Go through your clothing and donate whatever you haven’t worn in the past year. Forget about how much you want to weigh, whether or not the trend might come back in two years, or the fact that Aunt Sally bought it and you don’t want to hurt her feelings. Give away what you do not need.

January Cleansing, Faulty Recommitment and the End of the World

Posted onJanuary 6, 2007
Filed under Violent Explosions of Crunchy Rapture | Leave a Comment

I love January. Especially this year. Five days in and I violated rules I keep for myself year round, and I get to wallow in it knowing the world will end. It is 69 degrees outside, and all of my windows are open. I guess I should’ve just bought a damn Hummer to speed up the process instead of prolonging the end with my granola hybrid.