Windows

by Tom Lassiter
99 words


Molly sets her menu aside and orders blueberry pancakes “with crispy edges” she’ll drown in maple syrup. At 10, she’s sure in her wants and unafraid to ask.

“The same,” I tell the waiter.

Molly hunts among the crayons in a tin bucket and chooses red, the color of her hair. She turns to the fairy princess outlined on her place mat. We breakfast every Saturday morning, then do whatever strikes us. On Sunday, I return her to her mother.

The crayon, flickering like a sparrow’s wing, pauses.

“Come home.”

“Oh, sweetie, I--”

“Please?”

Yes, yes, but how?





Tom Lassiter lives in South Florida. His work has appeared in Tropic magazine, New Times, many newspapers, and at verbsap.com.