Photo by Rudy Issa on Unsplash
Honorable Mention in Gooseberry Pie’s First Writing Contest April 2024
by Amy Barnes
Mama and I always wore flour sack dresses, but they never hung like sacks on her solid frame because she added pleats, tucks, and ruffles, hard-won from a sewing machine not built to sew burlap. She was joyful when the flour company printed floral designs on their sacks because she once dreamed of being a fashion designer wearing delicate blooms that danced on satin dresses.
Before the company added the happy flower prints, Mama made do with my gooseberry finger flowers dancing across her skirt and voluminous apron pockets that held waxed-paper wrapped pie for snack emergencies on our Kansas farm.
“It’s like they know I use their product every day for baking and want to look pretty,” she said.
That made sense to even my tomboy self, as I looked down at my flour sack dress and pinafore, with its muddy handprints adding a blotchy pattern that was far from stylish.
After dinner, I watched her spread out carefully-saved flour sacks on our kitchen table, and for a moment we were transported to a Paris runway, fine textiles as far as the eye could see and French perfume wafting through the air.
Amy Barnes is the author of three collections. She reads and edits for many places and occasionally sleeps, only to be haunted by new story ideas.
