Photo by Josie Weiss on Unsplash
by Francine Witte
When my Mama says it’s a dollar-stretchin’ week, I force myself to say okay. Another week I can’t get the boots I want so bad– over the knee and green suede, and guaranteed to make Joey Taylor fall in love with me.
We aren’t poor, just careful, and my Mama can work magic with a can or peas and a bag of noodles.
When my Mama says it’s almost time for dinner, I lie and say I have to hurry to meet Joey Taylor who is taking me out for a big fancy steak, and I ask her to join us, but mostly because I know she will refuse.
As I leave the house, the wilty daisies lining the front walk, I hear my Mama break the neck of a celery stalk, listen as she opens the last can of beans.
I walk down to the department store, to stare at the windows, at my green suede boots that in the small evening light might as well be tall ears of corn growing up right out of the soil.
Francine Witte’s latest book of flash fiction is Radio Water (Roadside Press.) Her forthcoming book of poetry is Some Distant Pin of Light. She is flash fiction editor of SoFloPoJo and Flash Boulevard. She lives in New York City. Visit her website at francinewitte.com
