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Sunday, 11 December 2022

The Wishbone by Phyllis Souza, cranberry juice

 The wishbone is barely starting to dry on the windowsill the day after Thanksgiving.

Genie climbs onto a kitchen chair and grabs the forked chest bone of a twelve-pound turkey.

Mary, her younger sister, watches in anticipation.

Genie jumps downs. "Let's make a wish."

Mary clasps onto one end of the bone. "I-I want." She closes her eyes. "Hmmm, I know! I want... I want."

"Don't tell me. It won't come true."

The dueling sisters tug on the bone.

Stretching. Stretching. Stretching. Stretching.

They grit their teeth and twist the bone.

Zora, their mother, comes into the room. "What's going on in here?"

"We're making a wish," Genie says.

Mary cries, "It won't break."

"I told you, girls, not to touch that wishbone." Zora seizes the bone and returns it to the windowsill. "I'm saving it until your daddy returns from the war."

A ray of sunlight comes through the open window. It's shining on the wishbone resting on the sill.

About the author  

Phyllis Souza lives in Northern California. After she retired from a long real estate career, she took online writing classes. Her stories have been published in: The Drabble, The Raven Perch, Spillwords, Scarlet Leaf Review, and Friday Flash Fiction 

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1 comment:

  1. That is a sad story with a happy twist, Phyllis. I liked it a lot and didn't see the end coming. A lovely slice of life in a tight package.

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