Ninety-one
I visit and find
the sweetness of honey still in the jar
under a lid too tight to open.
I can’t predict what will
fail her next,
much as I try.
To prevent it.
Lace-up shoes are cast aside
for Crocs.
Hand in hand we shuffle
together
toward shrinking tomorrows.
Ninety-one
(Part 2)
There was no more honey.
She drove to the store,
independently.
Parked and shuffled in.
There, on the bottom shelf.
The weight of gold, too
heavy.
The check-out, too far away.
Impossible, she realized.
She turned and left.
Tap-tapping with her cane to
the car.
Then, home, to bitter tea.
***
Jennifer M. Smith is retired geologist, accountant, and sailor
who likes to write non-fiction from book length memoir (Green Ghost, Blue
Ocean), to essays, short stories and micro fiction. She lives in
Burlington, Ontario. She doesn’t like writing bios.
Visit Jennifer’s blog here: www.jennifermsmith.com
“Ninety-one” and “Ninety-one (Part 2)” were originally published on 50-Word Stories. For information on submitting to 50-Words, see here.
See Brian Henry’s upcoming weekly
writing classes, one-day workshops, and weekend retreats here.
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