Ear She, Ear He was written back when I still double-spaced between sentences.
Virtual Zine Mag published the story online October 7, 2019.
Doesn’t seen like that long ago. Yet, when I opened the archived link … poof!
The vanishing only to be confirmed by the Wayback Machine.
Sad when this happens, particularly when the story so perfectly aligned with the publication of …
No eating on the bus, a micro flash included as part of the The Woolf “Animal” online issue, November 2024. Read my tiny tale here and please, check out the phenomenal issue here. As always, many thanks, editors of The Woolf and to those way back ago at Virtual Zine for giving my work a home.
I remember the Ear She, Ear He acceptance email. Paraphrased, the editor so enjoyed the story, he laughed - and he never laughs. :)
We can all use a good laugh. A big bellyacher shake your head wipe away tears out loud guffaw.
In its entirety, double spaces and all … Ear She, Ear He .
Laura sits across the table, blue eyes wild, telling me about some crazy dream. I nod here and there and try my best to listen, but she’s a hair-behind-her-ear girl, pushing and wrapping loose strands back as she talks. My own ears have all but gone deaf as I watch. I’ve got a thing for ears.
“Wolves surround my house and what’s weird, a horse bucks in the backyard. The wolves don’t mess with the horse, but I’m scared to death and yank the curtains closed so the wolves can’t see me.” Her fine hair falls free over her right ear, the tip of the helix peeking through in a half moon. Every nerve in my body is strung horndog tight and it’s all I can do not to reach out and tuck the moon back to bed. I sit on my hands and think car crashes, road kill, UFOs, my mother wailing over how hard she worked to raise a proper gentleman, only to learn from some tongue wagger her son was elbows deep in a girl’s hair down at the town diner.
“What do you think my dream means?”
I concentrate on the freckles dotting Laura’s right hand. “I dunno, wolves are at the door, maybe you should keep the house locked?”
She slaps the table hard enough to jump water in our drink glasses. “That’s exactly what I thought!”
The waitress slides our order on the table and asks if we need anything else. I say no thanks and try not to make eye contact. She’s an old girlfriend (Sunset she calls herself) and our break up was anything as calming as her name. News is, she’s found herself a real man, a biker, who runs her around town on something real between her legs.
“I’ve never ever eaten a blue cheese chicken wrap,” Laura says. Sunset smirks at me as I half glance her way. “Well,” she says, beaming, “aren’t you the cutest thing? Lord knows, we’ve had our share of first timers here at the Don’t Know Where the Hell I Am diner.” She winks at me and slaps her name tag at Laura. ”You two call me over if you need anything.”
I dip my head low and nod. Sunset edges the bill slow as syrup under my nose, her fingernails tipped rosy orange. “No hurry, sugar. I’m here all night, same old schedule.” Her sneakers squeak away and I look up to find Laura chewing her way through my soul.
I swallow my grilled cheese and tomato hard and wave away her thoughts. “That’s done. Long time ago.”
“Sunsets ago?”
“Many.”
Sunset sidles back with the water pitcher and refills our glasses. I duck into my burger, my hair falling long against my forehead.
“You’re such a Bieber,” Laura says, ruffling her hand through my fringe. She tiptoes her fingertips around my red hot ear and pulls a quarter somewhere south of my auricle. “I’ve got a thing for ears,” she says, sliding the coin my way. She tousles back her unencumbered mane and throws open her throat in full wolf howl.
Sunset laughs and howls right along with her. I join the chorus—ears back, snout pointed toward heaven— and yip it up good.
I love the dream warning!!!!