My Sister’s House

Photo of a glowing, broken eggshell.I didn’t want to see the rooms half empty, each dish packed, each rug rolled up. Her house – so unlike mine, which is dim, china shepherdesses gleaming in the shadows.

My sister liked new things, or if not new, made so with paint and varnish. Light, she liked, broad windows, bright prints. If I go now, will I see her hand on the drape, drawing it back? Will she stir the eggs in the pan, careful to scrape them all up?

She made them with water. Older sister, her way was best, no matter that I liked them with milk.

Mary Grimm has had two books published, Left to Themselves (novel) and Stealing Time (story collection), both by Random House. Currently, she is working on a dystopian novel about oldsters. She teaches fiction writing at Case Western Reserve University.

Photo Credit: Albert Lew 

2 Responses to “My Sister’s House”

  1. Janice P says:

    I am curious about the emotional intent – detached acknowledgement of differences or a detached numb sadness??

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