Microfiction: Monsters

My mother told me there was no monster under the bed. I didn’t believe her then. I pulled the sheets over my face each night, leaving only my eyes exposed so I would be prepared when it crawled out.

Eventually I grew older and moved out of that room, into the real world. I graduated from high school, chose a major, entered the workforce and explored the rotating doors of love.

None of it was easy. My heart was broken over and over, and at times I didn’t know whether I was fighting my adversaries or my own self.

I remembered that bedroom from my childhood with fondness. And I realized that my mother had been right. The monster was never under my bed. It was prowling the streets, waiting for me.

 

Published in Haiku Dialogue (The Haiku Mind – Water in Motion)

chemotherapy
the gleam of her hair
on the floor

 

I’m very happy to have the above haiku published in Haiku Dialogue (Water in Motion), and chosen for commentary by guest editor Tia Haynes. The editor’s comments are below:

“From sorrowful implication where my thoughts were drawn to the tears being shed by the woman portrayed here, perhaps even those of her family and friends. The word “gleam” holds the weight of this haiku for me as it invites multiple readings; is the floor dirty and her hair “gleams” in contrast? Does it gleam from the perspective of the woman for whom her hair holds much importance? Is it because it has fallen/been shaved off under bright hospital lights? Does it imply youthfulness; that this is perhaps a young girl instead? The possibilities are rich in this evocative moment. “

 

HAIKU DIALOGUE – The Haiku Mind – Water in Motion