Cockroaches & Math and Missing Men

Cockroaches and Math
It was early morning, but I felt today was perfect. My friend, Rose, was in the kitchen, her music playing gently as she started breakfast.

I skipped into the kitchen, “The animals - can you help me find them?”

Rose motioned toward the back porch, “I just let them out.”

I sang loudly with Rose’s music (a song I’d never heard before) as I rushed to the pantry. I asked Rose, “Would you like me to cut sourdough?”

She nodded, smiling. I knew she hated cutting through the hard crust.

I cut the bread, still singing. I dropped several pieces into the toaster. “I have this great idea for a short story! About a good cockroach. It’s sad how people hate them, so I want to portray how they are mistreated.”

Rose’s eyebrows arched sharply.

The cat and dog scratched at the door. I threw the knife into the sink, ran to the door, and let the animals in, pouring food into their dishes.

I came back into the kitchen, stuffed food into my mouth, and sang.

“My, you’re hyper this morning. Especially after getting up early and doing math.”

I laughed, “I had to get up early to take the dog out. And I couldn’t go back to sleep. So, of course, I did math.”

“No comment,” she accepted two slices of toasted sourdough.

“Cockroaches and math,” I said as I kept humming. “Maybe those are the ingredients for the perfect morning?”

Rose looked at me hard. We both laughed.



Missing Men

Weddings, that time of life when you thrive off stress. Or so it’s with me. I’ve had the honor to share a small part of stress with many of my friends as I helped them prepare for their day.

So many weddings, so much wonderful work.

It was Rose’s wedding day. Stress was on a high. So much to do. so many people to find.

Bouquets were made, I’d just ironed the men’s suits - who were yet to arrive. Bridesmaids and flowergirls sat around me, doing hair or waiting for my help.

I smiled, laughing, thriving on the rush.

Rose entered the room, wedding gown and makeup intact. I paused working, the little girl’s hair staying taut in my hand. Rose was a natural beauty with her sharp Asian features, long and shiny black hair, and beautiful smile. And right now she looked like an exquisite china doll. Dainty, sophisticated, glowing.

I could also see she was stressed. She asked, “The guys aren’t here yet?”


“Do you really need them now?” A bridesmaid asked.

I finished the flowergirl’s hair and motioned for Rose to sit. Then I began working on Rose’s hair.

Even so she glared at the bridesmaid that spoke. “Yes! We have clothes, but no men. They should have been here hours ago. Where are they?”

I felt the latter part of the question was directed to me. Nervously, I replied, “Maybe they were raptured?”

I began styling Rose’s hair; I sensed tension drop away as she laughed.

Both of these short stories are fictionalized memories of me and one of my best friends, Esther Rose :D