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May 10, 2010

Caitlin: Happy Mother's Day

It never quite turns out like you expect, John sighed.

He’d gathered all the ingredients, drawn the circle and other symbols, cut the chicken’s throat at just the right moment. It worked: there she was, just like he remembered her. Beautiful, young - you’d never guess she’d been dead for seven years. He did it for himself, true, but for her too; for them, for the kids who now won’t have to grow up motherless.
It’s not like he expected fawning gratitude, but he sure didn’t think she’d be screaming at him.

“John, what have you done? I was happy!”

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