by Brad Rose
Our feet dangle in the chlorine-blue water, as we sit on the edge, at the deep end of pool. Clarise wears cutoffs and a polka dot bikini top. Rising from her chaise lounge, her mom, my aunt Beulah, promises to return in 5 minutes with egg salad sandwiches, and disappears behind the house’s sliding glass doors. Clarise scutters closer, leans in, and splashes a wet kiss on this 13-year old’s shocked lips. Don’t worry, Clarence, she sneers. After all, we’re only second cousins.
6S
Brad Rose's website is here.