September 2018

“Mom? Are you home?” I closed the door to my house and shuffled into the kitchen, filling the tea kettle and placing it on the stove. Without waiting for my mother’s response, I placed two cups next to the kettle and waited, staring at my reflection in the metal object. My face distorted around the wide mirrored belly and my eyes had merged into one. It was strange to know that I was staring at me, but none of my features were the same. A ghost of someone that didn’t really exist.

“Hey, sweetie, you’re back early.” I turned toward my mother and smiled softly. She was already ready for bed in her pink robe and fuzzy slippers. She had pulled her hair in a loose knot low on her neck and her eyes seemed tired.

“Tea?” I asked as the kettle started to scream. I turned off the heat and poured two generous cups, allowing the bags to bob like a buoys.

“Thank you,” my mother watched me from over her cup, her eyes following my movements as I stepped out of the kitchen quickly and returned with my laptop. I placed the machine down next to my own cup of tea and powered it up. My mother’s brows raised in wonderment.

“What?” I asked as I felt her gaze on me. I opened an application on my computer and stared at the blank page. The words were right there and my fingers moved to type but my mother’s glare made me hesitant.

“What are you writing?” She asked.

I looked over the opened lid of the laptop and took a scolding sip of tea. I winced as the hot water burned my throat. “I’ve decided to write another.”

My mother’s concern was evident. “Another? Wasn’t the last one the final in the series?”

I sighed as I took a more relaxed posture. It was supposed to be the last. I hadn’t envisioned anything after the final story but after speaking with Joy, I realized so many things were left unsaid.

“It was. But…” I chewed on my bottom lip as I watched the curser blink in and out of my vision. The blank screen unfolded a series of scenes in my mind’s eye. Characters dancing across the pages as if they were real.

“Oh,” my mother said through the silence. She nodded her head as if she came to some conclusion that I was unaware of. I just sat there looking at her, waiting for her to explain her sudden understanding. “You saw the movie.”

If she had expected me to do anything else but just sit there and stare at her, she would have been mistaken. She knew I didn’t want to talk about it. Even after the days when Lisa had left I didn’t talk about it. She knew that there would be no going back to the topic of the particular blonde.

“I did.” I tried to sound uninterested. It was normal for a writer to want to see the movie that her book was derived from. It didn’t matter that