Friday, March 30, 2007


I awoke to the sound of gasping, and in my naïve mind, I imagined I was dreaming of running out of breath, I told myself to go back to sleep, but then there was frantic pounding on the frail, paneled walls of the trailer, that kept time with the gasping. I slid from beneath my covers, the carpet worn and cool under my bare toes. My head poked through the doorway in quiet anticipation of ghouls. The narrow hallway dark except for the dusky, yellow light of the bathroom, and in it the shadow of my mother, naked and swollen with pregnancy. Her arms on either wall with palms pressed flat and tense, head hanging down in some strange simulation of crucifixion. My breath sucked in loudly, and she raised her head, quickly drawing her hands around her neck to show me she was choking. I ran past her in my nightgown like a shot of light to wake my stepfather. Without hesitation, he grabbed her from behind, trying to find a way around her massive stomach, and then with a thrust a hard candy projected from her, making a plunking sound on the wall, and soon thereafter came my brother. Aleathia Drehmer 2006 Published by Zygote In My Coffee #80

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