After the thief, dark-skinned, blue-eyed Abando, died, the break-ins continued. His sweetheart remembered him, his ways, and this is about love. She burned off padlocks, filling them with gasoline, setting them alight, so they burst open— a story I tell you because I want your attention. For you to come for dinner again. To stay as I lay silver in expected places around the table. To keep listening until you think of one chair here as your own. Then I’ll admit a softer truth: All she stole was a jar of honey and—I can see, she wanted to keep something close—my locket to hang around her neck.
Rose McLarney | Bellyful Tales Contents | Mudlark No. 51 (2013)