Sing, song on the faraway shores.
Sing, song when you’re at my door.
Sing, song through blood evermore.
Sing, song like our sisters before.
When we got back to Marilyn’s house, she had to help with chores. I walked home and washed up for supper. I took my time in the bathroom, the cracked Dove soap slick and pure in my hands. The place where the needle went in had already puckered shut. If the magic worked, I was supposed to feel different, like Marilyn was a part of me and a different part of me was gone forever. I studied my face in the mirror. Would we start to look alike? What would happen if one of us moved away? Could we feel what the other was feeling, like Elliot and E.T.?
Mom set the table with chicken casserole and broccoli. I stared at my parents through the steam rising from the meal. I heard their silverware scrape across their plates. I heard the click-click-pant of our dogs beneath the table. Bugs sizzled and fluttered against the light bulbs in the overhead chandelier. Cars sped by on the busy streets outside. Marilyn must have felt hungry, because although I couldn’t feel my lips and my stomach felt like it was someplace else, I reached for my fork and slowly began to eat. There were two of me now and I had to obey this other pulse from within. I chewed slowly and swallowed, like any sister would have done.
Katey Schultz is the author of Flashes of War, a book of flash fiction featuring characters in and around the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. She teaches and mentors authors and writers though her Maximum Impact courses and services: www.kateyschultz.com.
m the author of Flashes of War, a book of flash fiction featuring characters in and around the wars in Iraq & Afghanistan. I teach and mentor authors and writers via distance, though my Maximum Impact courses and services: www.kateyschultz.com.
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