Short Fiction by Wiggle

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Short Fiction by Wiggle Short fiction? It’s Itty bitty. Like pebbles in a mosaic

19/11/2022

When does the child become aware their mother is separate from them? At first they are inside their mother. Then being carried almost whenever they are awake. Being fed. It’s the moment they are put down. A tiny change, but, In their mind, huge.

11/04/2020

His first headache came when he was about four and a half. It was in the morning, his folks and sister were eating donuts, but his mom thought they might make his headache worse. So he watched from the couch, lying down

26/12/2019

From Glendale they moved a few miles away, to a house in a new development, built on an alluvial ridge running down off Mt. Lukens. It was always sunny and bright.

24/12/2019

He remembered the sound of the new house. Echoes from being empty, that disappeared, once the rugs and carpet were in. And that he heard again, when they moved out, in such a short time.

20/12/2019

It was time to teach him to stop sucking his thumb. The new, strange ritual at bedtime. Painting his thumb and being told, remember, don’t put your thumb in your mouth. It will hurt. And then the burning pain and screaming. He’d remember that night forever.

20/12/2019

When he started out having a cup to drink from, at first he would solemnly pour his milk all over his food. His mom said that went on for about a week.

20/12/2019

Penny came along after they had been in Glendale about a year. A puppy to run around the backyard with. He couldn’t really remember many memories before Penny. It was like she was always there.

09/12/2019

He went with his dad, to watch TV for the first time. To watch the Dodgers, at his dad’s friend’s house. B&W picture, which meant mostly gray, in those days. He spent most of the time playing with his truck on the floor.

03/12/2019

When he thought back to his earliest memories, there was only one from before Glendale. The house in Utah, behind his grandparent’s peach trees. His dad built it and was still working on the interior. He could remember the bare walls in one room covered in tarpaper.

26/11/2019

He was in the kitchen by himself one day, in the Glendale house. He pulled the step stool over and toddled up to stand on the top level to try and reach the honeybee. It was six inches out of reach.

26/11/2019

He went down his new slide at a safe sober speed. Then his dad ran over it with wax paper. His next trip down, he shot off the end of slide and hit the ground with a thump. He wouldn’t go near the slide, for weeks after.

19/11/2019

Three of the first four houses he lived in were brand new. Each had a tiny sapling tied to a stick in the middle of the front yard. And were the same basic design. Open the front door and you were in the living room. Kitchen next to that. A hallway and three bedrooms and the tour was over.

18/11/2019

He spent the night at his aunt’s house. Then he was playing with a cousin, and his dad was at the door. They walked out to the car and there was his mom, holding something in a blanket. A pink blanket.

17/11/2019

It was afternoon. They were driving near Marineland. There was a tiny alcove of a park on the cliffs. You could hear the sea lions and feel the fog, as you crossed to peer over the low stone wall at the waves below.

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