Jaquie spent the night praying to the porcelain god, Dave patiently holding her hair. No one warned you about night sickness because some genius named it morning sickness. After surviving the day unscathed, she didn’t expect to be sideswiped by spaghetti and garlic bread. At least, that’s what she told Dave. Stupid lies. Even she believed them. She ran her hand along the tile marks engraved across her cheeks, desperate to ignore the putrid stench of vomit, and the sourness…
Jack wouldn’t tell anyone about this. Not because he didn’t love the tradition, but because he suspected others would mock him. He appreciated the effort his father made, getting up early to make a special breakfast, and his insistence on taking photos. Sure it was sappy, but after losing Mom a few years back, Jack knew Dad wanted to commemorate big life events as she had. And he’d patiently indulged his father over the years, from photos with Santa to Easter…
It was definitely a weed. Sally frowned. She didn’t recognize what kind, though. It didn’t resemble nightshade, goosegrass, or ragwort. Best to call in reinforcements, she fished her phone out of her apron pocket. Snapped a photo and sent it to the family chat. One of them was bound to identify the plant. It didn’t take long for the messages to roll in. Grandma, why are you growing weed? Yes, but what kind? WEED! They really were most unhelpful, and…
Theo scrubbed the remaining dregs of sleep from his face and stared at the coffee table. It took a few minutes for his memory to filter through the alcohol-induced fog. The snapshots of his on again off again relationship lay scattered before him. He swept them into a pile and reached for his lighter. He shouldn’t have printed them. Left the memories in digital form where they were easier to ignore. Lesson learned. The fire grew brighter as it ate the…