Detour
Nothing has gone as planned,
but I’m not dead, so I guess,
there’s that. Afternoon, after
the kids have left for school,
haven’t yet returned, it’s middle
of everything. Middle of the day,
middle of my life, middle of no
-where. We live out here with
the rabbits and the possums
and the tombstones, see more
animals than people who come
up this way, most days. It’s weird
up here, when we hear a knock
at the door, think who goes there,
and why? Couldn’t they just leave
us alone, living by the creek. Quiet.
I like watching the fish sometimes
more than I like the sight of people.
*
Lori D’Angelo earned her MFA in creative writing fiction from West Virginia University in 2009, the same year she had her oldest son. She is a grant recipient from the Elizabeth George Foundation, a fellow at the Hambidge Center for Creative arts, and an alumna of the Community of Writers at Squaw Valley. Recent publications include stories in Black Moon Magazine, Bright Flash Literary Magazine, JAKE, and Suburban Witchcraft.
