Pink and Blue I Love You

Gilda stood at the bottom of the stairs with fists planted on hips and forced a furious furrow onto her smooth brow. “For goodness sake, Beatrice, haven’t you changed yet? We have to get going soon!” “I know, I know. Sorry, I was just finishing my book.” “It’s Friday night. …

The Wood

I never wanted to live in the enchanted forest.

I’d inherited the shoe from great aunt Gertrude a few years before if for no other reason than that I was her last surviving relative- tales of profuse breeding habits notwithstanding.

I’d been up there a couple times as a kid, whole summers with Mom (never Dad- he never went near the wood) and although I remember there being many children on the property, Bertie had established her day care facility on the grounds precisely BECAUSE she’d never had children of her own. Never met the right man or something, I don’t remember the details. We were never close. So anyway, when I got the call from her attorney, Anthony “Squealy” Porkman (of Porkman Porkman and Porkman Property Law) about the shoe, it was also the first I’d heard that old Gertie was even dead.

I was surprised by the bequeathal, honestly. my mother’s aunt had always been something of a bitch to mom and me, something about her marrying a damn ‘outwooder’, and myself being the product of that apparently unholy union.