you’re right about me

You’re right about me. This is her thought with elbows pressing into the sticky kitchen table. Newsprint has darkened where bone meets wood. You’re right about me. You know me, don’t you. In many ways we’re alike–you and I. These loaded words spin in her head like a late night hangover. Words she never sent to him. But almost did. From the bookshelf in the far corner, nesting dolls observe the flesh shell shifting in her kitchen chair. Why the hell do they have such vacant eyes. They hide things. Like her, those nesting dolls.

“Mysteryland attendees,” shouts the morning headline. Her elbows are so deep into the wood she doesn’t give a flying crap about Mysteryland. We’re all born with some modicum of unknown. The curious, become painters, writers and scuba divers. In that order. She’s avoiding him. Evading her conscience which is tricky to do when it’s yourself you’re lying to. You’re right about me. The nesting dolls hide things. I hide things. There she said it. Her elbows peel away from the tacky table. Maybe she’ll get around to cleaning the house if she ever manages to clean her conscience. One truth. She’s never understood her motivations for anything she’s done other than waking up.

Alexis de Tocqueville unnested an entire character of an entire people simply by saying what he surmised to be true, “…each man instantly sees all his fellows when he surveys himself.” Had she ever unnested anything. Her self-surveys, tepid undeep things. No outer shell taken apart to reveal the next shell to the next shell taken apart all the way to the little solid mass of something that didn’t make any sense–a smiling grey mouse inside a genteel speckled Matryoshka. She’d never gotten close to her little grey mouse. All her shells, all her stuff crammed into layers.

You’re right about me.

swirl skating

swirl skating


11 thoughts on “you’re right about me

  1. Oh, we all hide things. It’s the one thing all people have in common. But I think the writer’s job is to rescue the whispered and the regrettable. (Not my phrase, saw it somewhere.) It’s the same for the artist, or any art. “Bring out your dead!” I’m still working up the courage. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Beautiful work AnnMarie! I finished the book. I posted it in complete. I think you will love it. My sister told me it sounded stupid and nuts. Well I am going to ignore her and not let her steal my joy and happiness. I wrote one of the greatest horror books ever she and no one else can make me think otherwise or take my hard work away from me. AnnMarie=Number One! Woo hoo!


  3. Whether “verse” or flash fiction, you can do it all, AM. You know it’s funny but your mention of a grey mouse–I read that and then I went outside to do yard work and what do you suppose we found nesting in our lawn mower? Grey mice! A mom and her babies. Anyhoo, that has nothing to do with your piece here, which is wunnerful-wunnerful. I’ll tell ya more in an em; I owe you. Writing these words before I get rollin’ in the red (hey, that should be Adele’s next big hit, “Rollin’ in the Red”! A song about Merlot!). Good evening, AM.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. What a great metaphor to use — the nesting dolls. I put one of these out at Christmas, given to me by my son-in-law. And isn’t it interesting — that time of year there is always at least one early morning when I sit and contemplate our tree, our old photos set up this time of year, and “unlayer.” Ah — that should be a verb that is common practice — to unlayer. hmmmm as a little girl I remember piously going into the confessional, the wooden slat being pulled back, and “unlayering” in my naive counting way of youth.
    Excellent flash fiction here, my friend. And, getting back to your beginning here, I can see this woman, sitting leaning upon the table, stained elbows and forearms…….
    so very well done, my friend!

    Liked by 1 person

    • say 10 Hail Marys – gosh, I don’t know if that ever helped me – I actually passed out once when I was about 10 while saying the Rosary outside

      thank you about the writing
      you know, Lillian – I keep trying all different directions – never sure of what will transpire

      I hope to – at the very least – create a character or two along the way who I’d actually enjoy having tea with –

      my mother-in-law gave us a trove of nesting dolls – all very old
      I’d been wanting to include them in a piece for awhile

      we have a Santa nester too;)
      thank you, friend

      Liked by 1 person

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