#175 The Vanishing of the Middle Class

by Hannah L. Miller

The Zero in Stephanie’s paycheck is lonely. The other four numbers won’t talk to it. So Zero begins studying magic. Simple slights and confabulations at first, but soon it moves on to conjuration. The other numbers take no notice but Stephanie is delighted by the bursts of rose bouquets and doves. In her living room, the Zero’s rabbits collect to nibble on strings of silk scarves and hop through the flaming gold hoops that lock and unlock endlessly.

When the bank notice comes, declaring a lean on her mortgage, Stephanie laughs. She reaches down deep into the Zero on her paycheck and pulls out a flourish of hundred dollar bills. She heads to the pet store to buy feed for the rabbits and doves. When she comes home, a repo man is waiting for her Chevy. He watches in astonishment as her Zero opens wide and spits forth a Cadillac.

“I wish I had what you got, lady,” he says, hooking a winch to her old car.

The bank has changed the locks on Stephanie’s door while she was gone and posted a yellow eviction notice. Stephanie cocks her top hat and spins so the sun catches the sequins on her stockings. She leaps gracefully over the poverty line into the Zero’s embrace.

“They make a handsome couple,” the repo man thinks, driving away. In the rearview mirror, Stephanie steps through the Zero and disappears in a puff of smoke.

The Zero, lonely, follows the repo man home.