The New Normal After the Oil Fields Dried Up

Folks lined Main Street waiting for the moment the bear zigzagged into view. Every Saturday Fred Hamlin spiked a trough with honey and booze causing the incident. People arrived early to pick their spots, sometimes fought over them. But all was forgiven when the hula music commenced and the bear reared up and sashayed along.

Prompt words: incident, bear, street, normal (in title), moment

A New Beginning

He said the nude pictures were just for us, not to show to his buddies. He promised. We were married. I trusted him.

At first, I cursed my fate. Felt sorry for myself. Considered suicide. Sleeping pills. But why? I was being the wife he wanted. A willing participant. Five years annulled in a few tawdry minutes.

At my interview, the principal asked me why I left my previous job. I told her. I hadn't planned to. The words rushed out, like water in a rapids. Her face softened. She told me how sorry she was.

Now, sitting in my new classroom, in a new city, anonymous, I await the arrival of a new group of students, providing a new focus to my life, one filled with hope and no regrets.

Family

Family

Daddy wore latex under his robe while delivering his rhapsodic sermons to unsuspecting congregants. He preferred Spandex when he and Momma participated in the local circus’ coed mud wrestling league. They were both daft, tromping to their own piper, but we loved them anyway. Wasn’t that how God wanted it?

Prompt words: latex, rhapsodic, daddy, mud, circus

The Visitor

She thought she'd made herself impenetrable, empty of feeling, unwilling (or maybe unable) to love again after James left. The visitor changed that. The blue-streaked hair, the gap-toothed smile, the cartoon shirts made her laugh. She stared at the candle, inhaled, blew the flame of remorse into silence.

Prompt words: candle, visitor, impenetrable, empty, blue

An Eye for an Eye

“Hey, mister. Does that plant eat people?”

The man's face went from puzzled to smiling as he turned and saw the girl standing just inside the greenhouse door.

“You part of the school tour?” the man asked.

“No, I'm by myself.” She crossed her arms. “Well, is it?”

The man straightened and said, “What a silly question. There are no man-eating plants.” He smiled, wiped a soiled handkerchief across his brow and put the hankie in the pocket of his bib overalls. He didn't wear a shirt.

“Too bad.” The girl's eyes stayed on the man. He remained still, as if planted in potting soil, unable to move.

The man looked the girl up and down. She couldn't be more than nine or ten. Her pink dress had a dark red circular stain on the front that could be blood. Dark, unwashed hair hung limp on her shoulders. Her purple eyes made him nervous. When she stepped forward, he backed away.

“Now stay back missy. There are sharp tools and prickly plants in here. I wouldn't want you to trip and get hurt.”

“Oh, you can't hurt me. Not again.” She continued forward—slowly. He looked to see how close he was to the back door.

“What the hell is going on?” The man picked up a clawed tool, just in case. “Who are you?”

“I'm not surprised you don't remember me. You were drunk, or high on drugs, or both when we last met.” She cocked her head to one side. “You didn't have a beard then.” She rolled her head to the other side. “You look younger without it, even with the grey.” Her focus returned to the accident. “It was three weeks ago, a rainy, July evening. You were driving when you shouldn't have been, and you swerved into our lane and killed my dad and me. Remember yet?”

“You're mistaken,” he said, his voice soft and unsteady.

“No. You did it.”

The man wanted to run away, but couldn't move. Something held him in place.

“My mom still cries every night. I don't like seeing her sad. She tells everyone she's fine, but she isn't.”

“But. . .you're dead. You said so.” The man's hands shook, bile crept into his throat.

“Yeah, so you can't kill me again. But I can make your life miserable—and that's what I plan to do. Make it as miserable as my mom's is.” Her expression was anything but childlike. “Or worse.”

The man pushed the door open, ran out, slammed the door shut, and propped a shovel against it. He looked inside. The girl was gone. Still, he heard her say, “That won't help you.”