101 Words

Near the woods a deer stands motionless; his family waits across the street.

I veer off the sidewalk, cautiously approach. He’s startled by the move. His black eyes lock onto mine. He could rear up, deliver a kick to my head. Or, I could jump onto his back, reach around his neck, and strangle him.

When I’m too close, he stomps his forefoot. Not intimidated, I raise my arms and inch closer.

He lowers his head, readying his small but sharp antlers.

“Boo!” He darts into the woods. “That’s right scaredy-cat, run.”

Good thing, I’m not in the mood to kill.

As I walk my dog, I pass my ten-year-old neighbor, who sits on her porch while talking to her friend over the phone. “When you die nothing happens. It’s just over.”

Her comment both impresses and depresses me. So young to be having such conversations. But aren’t some children attracted to the darkness of the forest? Witches and wolves? I sought them out, myself. Read the gloomiest books, rewound the saddest songs. Still, it surprises me she’s already pushed past darkness and embraced decay.

“You have to restart the game,” she continues.

Ah, a video game.

I grow closer to death.

Auburn hair fanned across her shoulders, sweeping past her breasts.

Sea foam flowed over us. It traced our outstretched hands, kissed our fingers, then returned to the brine.

Her smile shifted upward, dazzling like the sun that rose behind her. She shook her hair, her fur spread across her limbs. A glimpse of how easily she moved on from one state to the next.

I always knew that some souls can’t be contained within a single skin. They can’t be bothered with science or tradition. And she, my lover from the sea, couldn’t be bothered with the façade my tribe preferred.

A cacophony of noise filled the air: shuffling footsteps and voices drowned out by the whirring of factory machines. Ten-year-old Mary’s fourteen-hour shift had ended. Eighteen cents earned.

Mouse droppings crunched underfoot. Coal dust clung to the air. Ravenous cravings scratched the pit of Mary’s stomach. Staggering into the dark corridor, she tripped, her hand pressing against a cool brass handle.

A tin can sat on a worn table. She grasped it with shaking hands—unable to read the green label.

Returning home, she opened her treasure with a hammer and chisel, scanning the front.

“P-p-peas.”

A single tear rolled down.

“You’re dressed up nice,” Ma says.

I look down at my only suit, which, after Googling how to get the creases out, I hung in the bathroom for two days. It hasn’t really worked.

In the kitchen, I open a window, breathe-breathe-BREATHE in the winter air.

When I go back into the living room, Mum’s watching Homes Under the Hammer, tears plopping onto her black dress. Maybe she knows, I think. Hope.

“They’ve made it look ever so nice,” she says. Her pale eyes flit in my direction. “You going anywhere special, love?”

I sit down in Dad’s armchair—explain again.

My teenager’s universe turned dark today. “No power!” he squealed.

“Well, here’s your Spotify.” I handed him a boombox.

He gawked at the mammoth of an apparatus. Incomprehensible dials and oversized buttons. A cockpit had less controls! Heedlessly turning knobs, powerless against screeching static, he ached for Alexa.

I gave him a newspaper. “Your News Feed.”

His fingers fumbled with the oversized pages. After a failed conquest to find the Sports section, he chucked the crumpled mess on the floor and shambled off to bed. Napping didn’t require electricity.

With a smirk, I flipped the breaker switch and watched The Crown.

I’m sitting in a bakery, picking apart a donut and dunking pieces into a cup of coffee. My best friend, Jay, sits across the table.

“It’s good to see you,” he whispers, clutching a bouquet of chrysanthemums.

He smiles at me through teary eyes.

I try to smile back.

He sighs and looks around. I peer around the room. Everyone is wearing face masks—except for us. They stand motionless in their scrubs.

“I hate to see you like this,” he says.

I hear the bass of oxygen pumping.

A wave of dizziness takes over and the world goes dark again.