Female Education
  Flash Fiction by Rita Ciresi
  Four Ways of Looking at a Wife Some Things You Can Ask Me Burned Lowlands
Disposal Bargains Office Party Old Flames On His Way to American History
Through the White & Drifted Snow Imaginative Writing Notes for a Very Long Love Story Female Education Maybe the Mermaids

  About the Author  |  echapbook.com  |  Summer 2019 Fiction Issue


I’ve got my husband’s Vicodin. His Oxycontin. His Belsomnra. He doesn’t need them anymore. And neither do I, unless I want to off myself.

I’m all set to toss the pills down the toilet when I remember he told me no flushing. It pollutes the groundwater, he said. Gets into rivers and lakes and wreaks havoc on human and aquatic life.

Now he’s dead and for days I’ve been wishing I were too. Still, I do as instructed and mix the pills up with used coffee grounds, seal the vials in a leak-proof coffee can, and toss it into the garbage.

The night I haul the trash to the curb, I wish I had those sleeping pills back. I want to knock myself out. I want to go to bed and not-remember how blissfully ignorant we were, eating our baked sole the evening before the doctor told him it was cancer. I want to not-dream of aquatic havoc: flounder that have five eyeballs and sterile frogs that waltz.

  © Rita Ciresi, 2019

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