Skip to main content

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 

Comments

  1. Aww, those were nice! Can't say that I think cockroaches and math will make for a good morning though, lol.


    Alexa
    thessalexa.blogspot.com
    verbosityreviews.com

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks! Haha, one can often be surprised at what makes something great ;)

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular Posts

Living Like The Amish: Interviews With Three "English" Families PART I

Many people are obsessed with the Amish. I know at one time I was as well, and to a degree I still am. But my perception  has changed with experience. It started a long time ago when my family went to an Amish-held auction (no, it's not a place where you can buy Amish children, but a place where you can buy things from the Amish). I was eleven years old and enthralled to be surrounded by so many Amish. I loved the cockscomb flowers they sold everywhere. I bought a whole box for $2 and dried them for seeds so I could plant my own. But then I experienced my first reality shock concerning the Amish. I had assumed since they lived a simpler life everything about them was completely old-fashioned and natural. Imagine my horror when I saw Amish walking around with soda cans and store-bought ice cream. " Mom ," I said. "He's drinking soda!"  Left to right, back row: Jonny, Jonathan (Dad). Front row: Jacob, Keturah, Rebekah (Mom), Jonah (on Mom's

How Bad Can I Be?: Lyrics That Make You Go "Wow!"

How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just doin' what comes naturally How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just following my destiny How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just doin' what comes naturally How ba-a-a-ad can I be? How bad can I possibly be? Well, there's a principal of nature (principal of nature) That almost every creature knows Called survival of the fittest (survival of the fittest) And check it this is how it goes The animal that is has got to scratch and bite and claw and bite and punch And the animal that doesn't (well the animal that doesn't) winds up Someone else's lu-lu-lu-lu-unch! (I'm just saying') How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just doin' what comes naturally How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just following my destiny How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just doin' what comes naturally How ba-a-a-ad can I be? How bad can I possibly be? Well, there's a principal of business (principal of b

Peace During Patience

“Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.” - Philippians 4:6 My family and I were sitting around the breakfast table several months ago. Mom had just read this verse. One of the kids laughed incredulously, “What is it saying? Be careful for nothing – live recklessly?” “No,” I answered quickly. My tone was very matter-of-fact, blunt, as if I were all-knowing. “It means do not worry.” The kids all nodded among themselves and life continued on for them. But for me life paused at my words. I had heard this verse soooooooo many times. I had always known what it meant. But now? Now it really meant something . “Do not worry.” This path I've chosen. I can not see it. I can not feel it. I do not know where I am. I have chosen to follow God, and no other. But why did He hide the light from my eyes? I must take a step forward. But I do not want to. How long w

Inside The Land Of The Free

Hello. My name is Greg.  I have a lot of time to think. Too much time. Sometimes I think about my life - why I am sitting in prison. I wonder what I could have done different - my life plays before my eyes. "If only..." But even I know that no amount of good works would have stopped tyranny from finding fault with me. It is cold. My clothes are thin. My stomach is empty - occasionally filled with food of no sustenance.  I hide my face in my knees - as if that will somehow protect me from the horrors of this dark cold dungeon.  They keep it cold to freeze me, this I know. It is a part of their game - to drive a lesson into me. As if I have a lesson to learn solely because I was convicted. Convicted, but not  guilty. Years.  68 years for standing against injustice. How many years have I sat in here? I have forgot. All I know is this question, "Was I fated for this? Did God grant my birth