Spoiler Alert

“There’s, like, a huge pile of packages out here, did you know?”“Get out of the way!” I shout, toppling my children like bowling pins.“What’s in there, Mom? Is it for us?” ask my mosquitoes.“None of your business!”My stomping covers the clamorous clattering of toys as I drag the heavy stack upstairs. I cram the boxes in my closet and hide them behind rarely-worn dresses. An old blanket covers the teetering mountain.“Can we see?”“No! Don’t come in here!”Slamming the door shut, I wonder if they might have guessed that their Christmas presents had arrived.From Guest Contributor Sarah Czarnecki

Sarah is a dog-walking, fast-knitting, list-making Sconnie who sometimes writes.

Five-Minute Rule

An apple drops onto the produce floor and bounces twice before rolling under the corn stack. You’d hoped to walk away, but three ladies saw it happen and are giving you an accusatory look. So you pick up the fruit and carry it to the baked goods section.

Five minutes later, you return the dropped apple and turn it inwards to hide the bruised spot and wet corn silk.

You grin with satisfaction and think of the poor sucker who doesn’t check his fruit before purchase.

At home, later that day, you unbag your peaches and notice they are mushy.

From Guest Contributor Jennifer Lai

The Rights And Duties Of A Mother

The apartment is bare of any ornament.

Hannah had expected to find a shambles, hence the bucket of cleaning supplies in her hand. It's difficult to believe he's lived in this studio for the past six months. The only sign that she's in the right place is a stack of his clothes in the corner, neatly folded. Otherwise, there's none of his personal effects, even in the wastebasket.

Her grief isn't prepared for this. She's a mother, long accustomed to fixing the messes of her children. Finding that his last act had been to clean his room leaves her devastated.

Garage Sale Books And Modern Lovers

Barbara poked around the stack of discarded books, hoping this would be their last sale for the day. What joy Joseph derived from driving across the city scouring garages for bargain antiques eluded her. She'd tolerated the pastime for three months now, but a quaint second date now had the hallmarks of a compulsive hobby.

Maybe she would end it with Joseph tonight after dinner.

Barbara picked up a battered copy of The Farewell Waltz, one of the only Kundera novels she had not yet read.

"How much?"

Two dollars seemed like a price well paid for such appropriate symbolism.

New Year's Eve

Charlie and Shannon had been expecting a crowd at their house for New Year’s Eve, but ten o’clock approached and still no one showed.

“Charlie, where is everyone? You did put eight o’clock on the invitations, didn’t you?”

“Of course, I did.” Charlie went to the counter for a glass of wine, when he noticed something sticking out from under the piles of papers. All the invitations he was supposed to mail two weeks ago, under a stack.

“Shannon, it looks like it’ll be just the two of us at midnight.”

Charlie threw the invitations out and gulped his wine.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher