Mom let us kids do whatever we wanted, as long as we entertained her. Fail in that and she would discard you like a dirty dishrag. She was most amused when our escapades involved physical injury. How much would we sacrifice for a moment buried against her bosom, a brief whiff of Jean Naté at the nape her neck? A finger blistering above a flame? Toes crushed beneath her back tire? I shot an arrow into the eye of my brother, Eddie. We both got cake, piled high with fudge frosting, crushed glass in the center.
Jayne Martin is a Pushcart, Best Small Fictions, and Best Microfictions nominee, and recipient of Vestal Review’s VERA award. She is the author of “Tender Cuts,” a collection of microfiction from Vine Leaves Press, and “The Daddy Chronicles-Memoir of a Fatherless Daughter,” published by Whiskey Tit Books. She lives in California, but dreams of living in Paris. Website: www.jaynemartin-writer.com Facebook: Jayne Martin-Auteur. Twitter: @Jayne_Martin