Dear Pink Room

With eight hours before streetlights came on she emptied nickels and dimes from her world globe bank for an escape caught Bus 12 headed east to Belle Isle strolled through the Conservatory ran through the gardens spent a good hour at the fountain snapping photos for families before hauling off to the aquarium to make faces at the fish.

Back outdoors she noticed the wind whip up so figured she should head home when she noticed the man who ran the hotdog stand running after a plastic bag with the last of his buns. She jumped into action to rescue the bag just before it flounced into the fountain.

She enjoyed hotdogs from her new friend and dozed on the ride back but awakened to find she missed her stop when the driver called Endofthe line! But four miles from home was plenty of time to get back come skipping home at twilight to the street with no potholes round every uncracked corner way before dark before the dumb streetlights blinked on.

The Wayne Literary Review: Escapism

Mary Anna Scenga Kruch

You afforded brief retreat for me until I could confess sheltered intimacies to my journal in you, my pink room who offered lovely Veiled Rose above matching floral paper

until the shouting started: at times Mom to oldest brother dispersed after each had shouted their say Mom ’ s cheeks rouged Coral points as she returned to dinner prep meatloaf punched and in the oven followed by a much-needed smoke;

my brother ’ s face raged Wild Berry as he lifted a few L&Ms from Mom ’ s purse hair slicked back comb in back pocket English Leather trailing in his wake as he headed outdoors to argue GTOs over Camaros and do you recall Dad and my sister? Clashes could last (it seemed) hours carried Dad to the yard Magenta mouth pulled into a tight line whistling crossly as he watered peppers along the back fence needed quiet drowned out by souped-up Chevys cruising down Gratiot

while my sister ’ s face flamed deep Flamingo

The Wayne Literary Review: Escapism