Roots

When I came home from work one afternoon, I discovered my aunt had turned into a carnivorous plant.  Finish the story here.

This piece first appeared at Quart Short Literary Reading Nights in Adelaide, and was also performed at Salon REaD, an emerging literary salon in Brisbane (photos of the latter below).

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The Rule of Three

The bed required three cushions.
Was flanked by two tables, but this was okay,
because together they made three pieces of furniture.

There were only two windows. So she hung a painting on the wall.
This left one wall bare, but one was better than two,
though not as good as three.
(Don’t even get her started on four.)

She had three cats. Two slept on the bed, one preferred the couch.
This was not ideal, but no matter how many times she moved the cat
…he always moved back.

Her husband was one man. (Not three.) This was also not ideal,
for she liked to make love three times in a row
and her husband had to draw the line somewhere.

At night, she would shower for three minutes,
take three sips of water and lay in bed smiling and dreaming
of triangles, tripod fish and triple goddesses.

She scooped her slight belly, hoping for triplets
and praying she wouldn’t
have twins.