Sunday 1 September 2013

Chicken

by R.S. Bohn


In '46, my great-grandmother poured herself some tea. Out the spout came a phoenix, damp and bedraggled, like a kaleidoscope of coloured paper. That evening, great-grandpa changed the dial on the Silvertone and dropped to the floor. The entire block was out a week.

In '91, my mom married. Her salesman husband lasted a week before showing a Dart with an ignition problem to a prospective buyer.

A day after my first kiss, my science-geek boyfriend made a mistake in chemistry. They say the phoenix is lucky, but I wouldn't care if I saw another one for a thousand years.





Author bio: RS lives in Detroit, where they aim for a zombie theme park. She thinks one already exists in her head. Admission is free: http://rsbohn.blogspot.com

Chicken is part of 101 Fiction issue 1.

3 comments:

  1. "Out the spout came a phoenix, damp and bedraggled, like a kaleidoscope of coloured paper."

    So beautiful! Now I believe that´s just what they must look like!

    ReplyDelete
  2. I agree with asuqi -- you've got some truly beautiful phrasing in here. :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. Of all the things to be passed down...
    This image of the phoenix is priceless and, I suspect, enduring!
    Great flash, Rebecca!

    ReplyDelete