shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Allison Thorpe


auntie dreams of dark water and other things

She had the dream again when her third husband Wendell fell off the roof and broke his leg, when her cousin Millie's boy left home and joined the army, when her sister's dog Bozo got hit by a car and died. In the dreams she would see a lake all blue and sparkling turn darkly to a swirling mass and go down the drain, leaving a muck-ridden basin.

Whenever she had the dream, she would call my mother several times a day until a tragedy surfaced. One night, after a six pack, my father grabbed the phone and told her to take a god damn drain stopper and put it under her pillow.

Auntie never saw her lake again. It disappeared like all the booze my father loved so much. Instead she dreamed of walruses with very long tusks, dark prophesies lost among the secret smile in her eyes.