My resolution is going sideways. I promised my short story a final clean-up and send out. It’s my first-born fiction and I’ve kept it home too long. Like a preschooler, it needs to live in the world and learn to cope. Now my characters drag their feet and want to stay home. I cannot get them into their snowsuits.

Natalie (Protagonist with mother issues): You never loved me.
Me: I’ve always loved you.
Linda (Foil, more sociable than “successful”): You always loved Natalie more.
Me: I’ve always loved you.
Flannel-shirt lady (Foil): We both know you don’t even know if you love me.
Me: Of course I love you. You are loosely based on me. Oh, hmmm. I love you in just the right way.
Flannel-shirt lady: We both know you don’t mean that.
Natalie: I hate this green snowsuit. Linda’s is better. You wanted a boy.
Linda: I hate this pink snowsuit. Natalie’s is better. You wanted me to look gender-specific.
Flannel-shirt lady: You never bought me a snowsuit.

Me: Here’s the deal. You stay here and watch television and eat junk food. I’m going to find the closest WIFI and clean you up. Then out you go. You’ll love where I send you. Do you understand?

Natalie: I always understand you. You don’t understand me.
Linda: Natalie thinks she understands everyone. Poop-face Natalie.
Flannel shirt lady: Wait, I’m going. I just wanted you to make up your mind.

Me: I always loved us in that shirt.

2 thoughts on “January 1 by Diane Kendall Stevens

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