Uncle John Isn’t Really My Uncle

Photo of an oozing chocolate-covered cherryHe’s just a man who works at the candy company. When he visits, he brings me and Mom bags of malformed candies, the ones that weren’t good enough to package. Chocolates with chunks missing. Gummy bears sliced in half. Every night he calls his wife and daughter. “Shhh,” he says to us. “I love you, goodnight,” he whispers into the phone. After dinner, Mom and Uncle John dance in the backyard. I watch from my window. Mom puts her head on Uncle John’s shoulder. I run my tongue over my teeth, feeling for the last sweet bits still stuck inside.
Leslie Walker Trahan lives in Austin, Texas. Her work has appeared in SmokeLong Quarterly, The Forge Literary Magazine, and other publications.

Photo Credit: JLS Photography

2 Responses to “Uncle John Isn’t Really My Uncle”

  1. K F Lerner says:

    Outstanding.

  2. JL Peridot says:

    Loved this. It’s quite sad and beautiful.

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