A Dirty Moss of Green

Photo of green shag carper and part of a green plaid couch.After daddy slinks out, suitcase in hand, mama patches and paints cracks on the eggshell walls. Outside, the sun is struggling behind the bruised clouds. Inside, I’m struggling to purge what daddy’s left behind. Mama plucks an album from the pile,
Santana on the cover, Lion-in-your-face roar. She cranks up the volume until the speakers chant, until our shoulders sway. Daddy’s shag, a dirty moss of green beneath our bare feet. Rain spits against the window. The damp smell of summer
clinging to our hair. We shake our ponytails loose. Mama paints our faces pretty, and we dance ourselves clean.

Karen Crawford lives and writes in the City of Angels. Her work has appeared in Cheap Pop, Maudlin House, Bending Genres, and elsewhere. Follow her on X @KarenCrawford_

Photo Credit: Sam I Am

6 Responses to “A Dirty Moss of Green”

  1. Betty Perez-Cutie says:

    Mama always knows how to make things better. Kudos to mothers.

  2. Anita Anastasi says:

    You Karen make 100 words so interesting! My heart & love are with you!!!!

  3. Jeff Harvey says:

    Love this.

  4. Tony Press says:

    I like it! Sweet ending, too.

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