All’s Well

By Kathryn Silver-Hajo

Considering she was approaching 100, she was doing fine. She still planned dinner with her daughters most days, even put on a few pounds. She enjoyed having a cup of coffee with the neighbors at 4:00 every afternoon, nodding when they spoke of a son getting engaged or how expensive cherries were at the market. When her eldest son FaceTimed her, stroking his new silver-fox goatee proudly, and asked, “Do you know who I am?” she squinted at the screen. “Of course,” she said without a trace of irony. “You’re a very old man at the end of your life.”

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“I write because all the strange, sad, wondrous, disturbing, puzzling, horrific and gorgeous things I’ve experienced in my life keep poking at me until I finally relent and give them expression.” – the writer