by Elena Cambio Pizarro

Even with mud on her boots, she could always find some new dance step to make her entrance. She pretended not to hear when I would shout from the kitchen, “Off with the Wellingtons.” Mud on the oriental rug is better than the twisted bile that comes with memory and large hands touching. “Take them off or you’ll eat on the porch,” I’d say and she would slide them off, one at a time, leaving them empty by the front door. Blank spaces where her lovely feet had danced. In socks, she'd find subtler indoor steps, inevitably sliding into the dinner table, where we would all sit down together.


Elena Cambio Pizarro is a writer, filmmaker, and language arts teacher. She teaches screenwriting at Ithaca College, and has served as a reader/judge for the Rod Serling Scriptwriting Competition since 2008. She currently resides in Ithaca, NY but is homesick for the South Shore of Boston.