Swirling Debris
2September 23, 2019 by The Citron Review
by Tisha Marie Reichle-Aguilera
She stands on the corner, only one young man next to her.
His headphone bass vibrates the air.
The signal changes to walk.
She stretches out her right arm, palm open, like mother protecting child in the front passenger seat as she brakes. But she’s not a mother. Hasn’t driven a car in years.
Under his white T-shirt she feels heat, his heart beats.
He yells, “What’s your problem?”
The police car, siren off, flies through the red light. Debris swirls around their feet.
“No problem,” she mouths.
They cross the busy intersection together as the red hand starts blinking.
Tisha Marie Reichle-Aguilera is a Chicana Feminist and former Rodeo Queen. She is also a Macondista, a Bruja, and a Woman Who Submits. She’s an editor for Ricochet Editions and VIDA Review. She writes so the desert landscape of her childhood can be heard as loudly as the urban chaos of her adulthood A former high school English teacher, she is now in a PhD program because school is cool.
[…] Why are fathers and sons separated by thousands of miles? Why won’t Mama leave her rocking chair? Maybe we have an idea. We’ve certainly crossed that intersection with the red hand blinking. […]
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