Marie Smysor Watson
jaundice - 100 words
Updated: Jan 15, 2021
Welcome 2021! Come on in, sit down, don't pee on the furniture. Oh, too late? Well, can't say I'm surprised...
I've got a little project I'll be working on for the next few weeks - editing is the necessary bane of every writer's existence - and I thought this would be a fun way to ease back into my regular writing routine. I call it 100 words. Because each story will be one hundred words - how's that for creativity?! - and will be built off of a single word provided to me by one of the lovely men in my house. This week's word is found in the title - as every one of stories of this series will be - and was brought to you by a true man among men, aka. my husband, Kirk. Happy reading...
I am awake and I have to pee. I can’t find a comfortable position anyway with my big belly, the baby sloshing around all night. I trundle across the bedroom, through the dark living room. Rounding the corner, I stop. My husband, bearded and burly but not overly tall, dances in the kitchen. Ballet. Plies, pirouettes, arabesques - my language ends there. The jaundiced light betrays his hopeful face as he leaps. Fever dream, I think. His or mine, I can’t say, but my bladder holds. I retreat back to our cold bedroom. I am more than ready to become a mother.