I could see the syrup as it stuck between his teeth and made strings of sticky spit between his lips. He cut an even bigger piece than what he had already hanging out of his mouth and added it to the wad on his tongue. He grabbed his orange juice and added an orange filmy layer into the blender.
He unrolled his newspaper and flipped through the pages. I don’t even know why it was rolled in the first place. It’s like he was itching for a chance to slap me with it.
I hopped towards the door attempting, but failing to tie my shoe as I went. Unfortunately for me, I forgot to move my bag last night and l face planted into to the plush carpet. My nose itched from the sea of fragrant carpet fluff.
Rose hummed an old blues song while she worked. We fell into a pattern, and the dishes were dried and stacked on the island in no time at all. Rose moved to the island and began putting everything in its rightful place.
“Go get your food,” he said with a wave of his arm. I nodded again and scuffled my way to the kitchen. “And pick up your feet when you walk,” Jared yelled after me.
This place wasn’t full of sunshine and a dry heat perfect for my morning runs. The air didn’t stick to me in Tuscon like it was here. South Tucson was my home. I lived with my mom; I ate TV meals instead of the traditional family dinners. My home was a single story doublewide on the edge of a trailer park.
That should have been Mom. He should have had his arms wrapped around mom, and her the one letting out tinkling laughter. I sprinted for the front door, threw it open, and ran around to the side of the house.
The lines on my arm extended upwards and to my left cheek like little spider webs making their way across my body. The zipper tab of my bag left an imprint on my shoulder and a loose button stuck to my neck. This is how Frankenstein must have felt every time he looked in the mirror.
She let her sentence hang in the air, but it still cut. Her ghost. She thought she was looking at my dead sister’s ghost.
Mom hasn’t had laughing lines like that since we’ve been on our own. Those years before Brooke was gone were the best memories I had of mom, but I could barely recall them. The entire album was full of memories I had forgotten.