windows then, and to hell
with the bill. Freezing cold
anyways, and the fire's not going
to make any difference.
And while we're at it, let's run
the hot water for an hour or two,
and turn on all the lights!
But don't come crying to me
if we get kicked outta here.
Hey, isn't that the oven timer?
When she opened the oven door,
it sighed a gush of air
thick with the golden scent
of baked pears and browning
shortbread crust. For a moment,
she was fifteen and laughing with
a group of leggy, suntanned friends
as they left the cool river of the drugstore
and were stunned to a stand-still by a wall
of Abilene heat. This time, she remembered
to turn off the oven light.
(c) 2013, by Hannah Six