Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Read My Joyce Oroz

I needed TV distraction. The local news flashed on … something about a farmer loosing his crop of lettuce to a disease. A black fungus? I tried to concentrate, but it was useless. I needed food. Why would fungus-infested lettuce remind me that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast?

      I shuffled into the kitchen and warmed up some left-over leftovers. I didn’t consciously taste the food, not even the chocolate ice cream that was supposed to make me feel better. My small, but comfortable home had all the usual rooms plus a loft. With Solow gone, the place seemed cold, gray and tasteless, like my dinner. I stared at the TV, but I might as well have been watching an empty screen. The phone rang, snapping me out of my stupor.
      “Hello.” I tried to sound like my normal chipper self. 
      “Hi, Josie, it’s David. I miss you and this weather is probably going to keep me here longer than I planned.”
      My cheeks felt warm at the sound of his voice, and I liked it when he used the nickname he had given me a few months earlier when we became “better acquainted.”
      “You mean your flight might be canceled?”
      “That’s right. The airport’s closed as we speak. I’m hoping the weather will improve before Tuesday so I can come home. How’s Fluffy?”

      “Fluffy is fine. It’s Solow who’s having a problem. It seems my little porch potato ate his blanket and now he’s spending time at the veterinary hospital.” I tried my best not to sound overly worried.
      “Hey, Josie, he’s going to be fine. For a minute I thought you said Solow ate his blanket.”  We both laughed. “Just don’t get into trouble until I get home.”
      “OK, David. Hope to see you Tuesday evening.” I was smiling as I hung up. David always made me smile. All I needed was a cup of hot cocoa and a good rerun on the tube. I settled onto the sofa, mug in hand, and began watching a rerun of the very troubled Mr. Monk working his magic to solve a difficult case. I stared at the TV, trying to enjoy the mystery, but between Rosa’s disappearance and Solow being so sick, it was impossible to concentrate.
      I remembered the time Fluffy had mixed it up with a stray wire attached to a fence post. She ended up in Dr. Finley’s office with an abscess on her little pink nose. Rosa Mendoza, the “Florence Nightingale” of animal nursing, made house calls to make sure Fluffy was healing. 


Looks like a Fluffy trick!

Read My Lipstick will be in print for the first time----soon!

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