#77 Alternate Universe

by Sarah Laurenson

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Macy’s empty chair glares at me from across the kitchen table. Not my fault. They all say it’s not my fault. Couldn’t get out of the damn bed to see her one last time, but it’s not my fault. Yeah. Whatevs. I look up from the chair to the ugly yellow wallpaper. Macy loved that shit.

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A cold nose and a slurp of the tongue on my left arm.

“Hey, Charger.” I pet the head wriggling its way onto my lap. “Now don’t you worry. Your Aunt Mona said she’d take you in. Just don’t let her make you fat, you hear.” Macy’s sister’s soft on dogs. “She might even give you a bath, you stinky hound.”

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Damn. Maybe it’s not my time. I shake the bottle of pain meds. Half empty. Too risky. “You believe in alternate universes? You believe your mom is sitting in that chair trying to make me laugh in some other plane of existence?” I sigh. “It’s a good thought, girl.”

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I put the gun down on the table and take another swig from the bottle. “Yeah. Maybe she is. And maybe that damn drunk is dead or not even born.” The clock ticks away the seconds, the minutes as I stare out the window. “It might take time to find you. Eat what you can, girl. Don’t hold back ‘cause it’s me, you hear.”

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Sarah Laurenson was a finalist in the 2012 Lascaux Flash contest—Ed.