Not Again
by Michaela Fisher
58
Her green eyes lingered a moment on the grave,
and then moved beyond it to her other three
incidents. The oldest was indistinguishable,
with a young sapling growing where soil had
once been overturned. The other two were still
healing, grass beginning to fill in and dandelions
emerging in clusters. She checked her watch and
sighed.
“Sammy, I’ve got to go, Kate will be
home any minute. Sorry again, okay?” Piper said
as she rose to her feet. She felt guilt begin to
tug at her sides, but she reasoned that at least
Sammy wouldn’t be alone out here in her secret
place. Wiping a line of sweat from her brow,
she stashed the spade in her jacket pocket and
looked out across the glade. She was almost certain she could hear the distant grumbling of her
girlfriend’s truck approaching.
Piper picked up a brisk jog, quickly covering the space across the glade and merging into
the forest. She bushwhacked back to the house,
her fair hair waving behind her as she took care
to not leave evidence of her journey. She slowed
down as the forest thinned and the house came
into view. She could see Kate’s worn pickup
truck just coming to a halt in the driveway next
to her own yellow punch-buggie. For a moment
Piper felt a tug of concern, and wondered if cat
hair stuck to rubber. Probably not, she reasoned,
and walked over to greet her girlfriend.
Pink Hibiscus by Seth McBride
“…And may Sammy rest in peace in kitty
heaven, and have all the mice and milk to eat
that he ever wants,” Piper said with clasped
hands. That sounded a bit weird, the woman
thought as she rose from her bowed position to
rock back onto her knees. She didn’t pray often,
though, and hadn’t been to church since she
was little, so she reasoned that’s why the words
had sounded odd leaving her mouth.
Overhead the day was serene, not a
cloud to mar the uniform periwinkle sky. Piper could hear birds gossiping in nearby trees,
and the squirrels chattering away with their
harmless arguments. The woman sat in a nearopen glade, surrounded by a lush forest that
hummed with life. In front of her was an impressively large oak tree, and beneath it, freshly
disturbed soil.
Piper flexed her wrist, which had become
sore from the digging. Her girlfriend’s little
garden spade had not been the ideal equipment
for digging such an ambitious hole. Dirt stained
her hands, and little particles of soil clung
underneath her mismatched painted nails like
unwanted guests. She even had a bit of a blister
forming on her palm, evidence of an unworked
hand suddenly being forced into labor. You’d
think one of these times I’d remember some
gardening gloves.
“I’m real sorry about this, Sammy,” Piper
said, addressing the cat now.
“It wasn’t your time, and you were taken from the world too soon. I’m going to miss
you,” Piper said, remembering the tom’s soft
orange fur and his rumbling purr. She had never
been much for cats, and being allergic did not
help. Still, Piper had liked Sammy well enough.
“Oh, and Kate will miss you too of
course. I’m sorry you won’t be able to see her
again. She loved you, you know? She really
did,” Piper continued, wringing her hands as she
knelt beside the grave.