88 BREADED FROG LEGS by Meredith Craig
The day Emma Hutchison realized she had ESP, she had dinner plans with the Druckers. She went in for a simple sinus surgery that afternoon, and when she was released from the operating room, breathing freely, she had the bewildering side effect of precognition. In the stark white room, the resident nurse in pastel scrubs touched her arm and asked how she was feeling. Emma was taken aback by a vision of the nurse hanging posters for a missing dog, who, unbeknownst to her, was safe in her apartment building’s basement. “I’m okay,” Emma said, catching her breath. “And so is Trumpet. He’s napping in your laundry room!” The nurse laughed and explained ESP was a common side effect. Yes, it was sure to wear off, nothing to be scared of, only happens when you touch someone, usually lasts about five hours, but call tomorrow if it persists. “Is your husband picking you up today?” the nurse asked. Emma shook her head. She walked home in a daze, wrapping her camel coat tight around her neck while smelling, for what felt like the first time, the stale air of the city. She wondered if another husband would have offered to pick up their wife after an operation. Probably. Her imagination conjured up a faceless man waiting patiently for her procedure to be over, (with flowers!), and insisting on ordering chicken soup and a car service to bring her straight home. Bumping into a crowd at the crosswalk, she was distracted by visions of strangers rolling through her mind like beach balls; people with lives and problems, who made a variety of choices resulting in desires, death, or disagreements.
