At Waffle House at 10 PM
By Jenna Lasby
It’s raining on the cracked sidewalk and you all hold up the train of my dress to keep it off wet concrete, and I can’t believe you thought of me. The stranger at the window says he recognizes us. The cloying lights don’t hide anything. We are angels with glitching halos. We stage a fight in the alley. We contort into new shapes for each other. We play mental chess on the black-and-white tiles. I forgot what it meant to laugh my lungs hollow. The most daring thing I have done this year besides think about dying is eat dinner at 10 PM. I salt-rinse with hashbrowns and decide I’m home.
Author Bio: Jenna Lasby is a writer from Texas. Her fiction and poetry are featured in Brilliant Flash Fiction, CALYX Journal, and Rogue Agent, among others.