by Liz Femiano

I eat expired oatmeal that tastes like soap, one packet a day, and when I'm through this box, there's another, until I wake up and feel like a good person. I've got a moratorium on the things I like best, so my days are Shredded Wheat, visits to the railroad museum, Agatha Christie hardcovers. I miss checking my horoscopes most, how I could swing it to justify anything. I could decide right then to fold up the paper, change my underwear, drop by his place, then go with him to buy an apple or a carrot or a potato from Albertson's, then stay over because I was messed up in the best way - and it'd all be kosher, because the Moon entered Sagittarius, and he's so cute when the barber cuts his hair too short. "Everyone is good," a religious friend told me, "but you won't be good for a long time." My nice panties sit quietly in the drawer, all folded up in rows like teacher's pets, so pert and lacy and hopeful.


Liz Femiano is a Taurus. She has an MFA in fiction from the University of Florida.


Leatherdykeuk said...

Lovely six. All the self denial makes me think she's Catholic.

Amy said...

Messed up and quirky. Love her. Great six.

David H. said...

Wow, this is great. I love the mess of images and her helter-skelter thinking. And I think "but you won't be good for a long time" is a wonderfully haunting line.

Madam Z said...

Ditch the oatmeal. Ditch the religious friend. Check your horoscope. And take your "nice panties" over to "his place."

Pleasure is good.