44 by Stacy Allen

I should have seen it coming when she put the dish soap in my coffee. Or on my 38th birthday. She fixed a cake loaded with coconut. (Disgusting! I shiver when I think about it.) I’m not allergic or anything; not saying she was trying to kill me. She’d known me 38 years but she didn’t remember about the coconut. Mom doesn’t remember much anymore.

So how did it come to this? To me hiding every night in the bathroom for a few minutes privacy? My mother huddled, waiting, right outside the door.

My wife is gone. She brings the kids to visit, and we all pretend that everything’s okay. Ha! Not even sure what it would take to make me okay again. Maybe I can’t take care of Mom much longer, but I can sure as hell try. Imagine – what if time alone was all I ever had?

Maybe it will all turn around. I’ll get a little money, move to a nice place on the north side of town. A place with a balcony off the bedroom and a clear view of the moon. And Karen will come back, get out of her mom’s place and come back home. She’ll like it there – she always loved the moon.

Tomorrow is my birthday again. I’ll buy a lottery ticket in the morning. Never had a lucky number in my life. But goddamn. Let it be 44. Let this year be my year. Please let it be 44.

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3 Comments

Filed under Stacy Allen

3 responses to “44 by Stacy Allen

  1. I liked this. How it was hopeless and hopeful at the same time. Nice job!

  2. Stacy

    Thanks – my first flash . . . this is definitely addictive.

  3. Pingback: Week #18 – Lucky Number « 52|250 A Year of Flash

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