“DYKE” just like that, in big, bold, red letters on the side of my brand new, shiny white car. Dial tone in my ear as I wait to tell my grandma that I won’t be able to drive her to her cardiologist appointment today. Her voicemail is what I hear next. I can’t tell her the truth so I hang up before the recording can start. My car in neutral I watch the suds plaster my windshield, hoping against hope that their bubbles are strong enough to penetrate the thick cherry paint. I see my father’s name appear on the dash in front of me. I hit the green ‘answer’ button. It was a stroke. She was alone, upwards of thirty minutes with no one to call and no means of transportation to a hospital. He had found her just a little too late.
Lacey Cohen is an emerging gay, Jewish writer and hopeless romantic. She is currently working on her MFA at Long Island University, living in Brooklyn, NY and working as the Managing Editor at Defunct Magazine. She is, however, a true and proud Michigander at heart. Her work has been featured in Terror House Magazine, Full Mood Magazine, and Punk Monk Magazine. In her free time, Lacey loves to read, play guitar, and binge watch ~30-minute adult cartoons.