Price

by Carolyn R. Russell

He said I needed to comply with what he called the current mood of the country and said it would be best to banish certain words from my vocabulary, at least never speak them aloud, and to avoid being seen in public with certain kinds of individuals. I said such individuals were beloved members of my family, and he said you know how family-oriented we are, we’d never interfere with those holy bonds. Just get together privately, and for Chrissakes, stay off social media, or going to meetings, or attending events that might place you on the wrong side of things, you know, suggest the appearance of disloyalty. Disloyalty, I repeated; he told me to stop playing dumb, you know what I mean, and I’m saying this not just as your boss but as your friend, let’s not let politics divide us, eh? I now have two more years before I come up for parole, which is a joke, no one ever gets it, and my family visits me when they can, in private, entering from a special back elevator to preserve their anonymity, an accommodation that was initially maligned but eventually touted as evidence of how compassionate the new regime is, how godly. I’m told the price of eggs is down.

6S

Carolyn R. Russell's short stories, poetry, and creative nonfiction have been featured in numerous publications. She has also authored four books, including a multi-genre flash collection called “Death and Other Survival Strategies” (Vine Leaves Press, 2023). She is a Best Microfiction 2024 winner and Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net, and Best Small Fictions nominee. Carolyn lives on and writes from Boston’s North Shore. (Visit her website here.)