GENRE: One line of fiction. The rest is truth.
100 words
Dedicated to my dear cousin Mary Veazey, who said, “Let’s go on a cruise.”
I have almost forgiven her.
POETIC JUSTICE or, YOU’LL BE FINE
Beautiful . . . waves, sunset . . .
Deck chairs . . .
Two nights at sea, then—shopping in Can Cún.
Uh-uh. Swimming, sunbathing, siestas. Bar open yet?
#
Soooooo relaxing. Waves rocked me to sleep.
Hurry, let’s claim our chairs.
Breakfast?
Chairs. There’s pizza near the pool.
#
I’m queasy.
Wearing your patch?
Don’t have one.
Sit here. Sea air helps. ‘Bye.
#
Find a doctor.
You’ll be fine.
Move, or I’ll ruin your sneakers.
#
I’m going home . . .
You’ve had a shot of phenergan—you’ll be fine.
. . . if I have to swim.
#
Phenergan worked! I’m fine. Let’s shop till we drop.
. . . I’m queasy.
*****
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M. K. Waller 