Leslie's Blues

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Blue and white capsules rang around the toilet.

Submitted: December 14, 2012

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Submitted: December 14, 2012



Blue and white capsules rang around the toilet. Then, I’m arching my back face down. I look for stray medication. Chilling my knees, the imitation tile beneath me looks sterile. I relax on all fours and think of my honeymoon night. I am soothed by the familiar position and dream of my eyes bulging wide-open at the wooden paneling in a snow-crested bed and breakfast. If I had sex every awaken moment, I wouldn’t pay Dr. Kavorki to ask about my kids. “How could I be so careless,” I thought, “leaving myself to again believe that a BBW lab technician is supposed to be a struggling stage actress?” I am on my way to having grandiose delusions. Sitting beside me, an old labrador retriever yawns. I don’t remember getting this dog. His fur tickles my exposed thigh. I am wearing my daughter’s cheerleading shorts. She says I look like ‘white trash’ when I wear them.

My legs pull forward from under me as I watch my body elongate and get comfortable. I realize I’m not going to work or making Tuesday night fajitas for dinner. The bathroom of this off-white modular home in the middle of a North Carolinian subdivision fills with sunlight from the high-up arched window. The floors are processed, the walls aren’t wood, and the ceiling is whiter and cheaper than stucco, though flat.

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