redneckmansion   I’m a set designer named Lisa Smoot with literary ambitions on the side but I don’t really enjoy talking about myself or my intentions. Here’s a story.

 

 

Trailer Park Set

 

    Behind the thin cover of morning cloud, the sun looked like a dandelion gone to seed. “Fuckin’ poetic, I’m gonna weep,” Alice’s husband, Bill, replied in mock heroic response. She shut the trailer park door on the morning and went back to his unfinished bologna sandwich. “That’s going to be in a poem for my class,” she said and plunged the butter knife into the jar of mayonnaise. “You still wasting my money on those classes?”  Bill said from the table. Alice flinched at the sharp sound of a beer opening but she held back the words that were so close to forming on her lips. She remembered something: “Did you use my toothbrush this morning?”  “Is there someone else living here?” “ She walked over to him with the butter knife bearing a glob of mayonnaise. Bill leaned back in his chair and propped up his cowboy boots on the white table for two. “See, we’re saving money by using one toothbrush, that way I can afford to take the class.” Bill tilted back the beer to an angle equal to his reclining self but his eyes stayed close on her. She walked around the table, dodged the half-empty can of beer and plunged the butter knife into his side. An ending to her poem entitled: Her toothbrush. His toothbrush. That evening, the police would interrupt the class of eight during their discussion on metaphor.

 

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