Backwards This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

August 10, 2011
By
i am crouched next to the body
of my husband –
on a cold dirty floor of the
main street convenience store.
tears stream back upward
toward my eyes
as my knees and hands lift me from
my sprawled position.
i fly backward through the glass door

into my 1972 silver buick which speeds
back into the thick fog of that
winter’s night.

words scribbled on a policeman’s notepad
are erased as blue ink refills his pen.
and the pad and pen slowly replaced
in the empty black pocket of his
sheriff’s overcoat.

blood stains are removed from
a white plastic covering
as it is rolled to the end of my
husband’s feet
reaching the pale hands
of a young paramedic.

and a swirl of skim milk and blood is undone
as milk flies through the air into
an awaiting carton
rising from the ground.
and blood fills the bullet hole in the chest
of my husband in a grey wool coat.
a short stumpy man in a black mask
soars backwards into the store
and he replaces his revolver in his
faded jean jacket.

and lights now appear
in my husband’s hazel eyes
as he sees money
filling the register
by the clerk
while the masked man
reverses out of sight.

and my husband walks back
through the aisle
replacing the wet cartoon
of skim milk
and he makes his way back
to the parking lot
as his keys go from
pocket to door …

and i want to rewind time
like that
and tell you, tom
to get the
milk

tomorrow.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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