The Things She Liked (Short Fiction)
She liked shades, not blinds. Not curtains. She didn’t want the temptation of sheers or their provocative swishing. She craved the simplicity that pull-down shades provided. Not simplicity, really, so much as their polarity. The neighborhood was either on or off with shades. Not those half-turns or incremental shifting that provoked voyeurism. Too many thrillers started off with creeps at windows. Shades though. No one would ever accuse her of lurking. They knew when she was available for a friendly chat. You can still be neighborly with boundaries, after all.
Piercing my witch’s nose
From the time I was a little girl, thought that nose rings were pretty. We were allowed a single ear piercing and tasteful earring rings, although the parameters of which were entirely at the discretion of my parents and sometimes made random sense. But they made it very clear that if the boys ever came home with a ear piercing like “a homosexual”, or if the girls pierced our noses, they would be ripped out. Plain and simple. I don’t believe I ever heard my parents say “faggot” but the message for my brothers was clear, the consequences would be far more dire for them than a shredded ear lobe.
