It’s time for another Micro-Fiction Monday. Because today’s story is a little longer than normal, I’ll be dividing it in two. You can find Part Two here tomorrow. Now don’t be afraid… This is only fiction…
BEWARE YOUR WISHES
By: Rachel A. Carrera
Wet clay smeared Samantha’s forehead as she wiped her face with her forearm. She sat back and titled her head as she looked at the sculpture she was creating, then shook her head. “Something’s just not right. The eyes are too far apart.” Just then, her studio door burst open, and her triplets ran in. She gasped.
Rebekah scrunched her face. “Mommy, tell Marcus to stop chasing us! He’s ruining our game.”
Marcus furrowed his brow and shook his head. “I am not! Besides, it’s a stupid game anyway!”
Macie narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, well you’re stupid!” She stuck out her tongue.
Marcus frowned. “I am not!”
The girls stood side by side. “You are, too!”
Samantha stood and threw her hands in the air. “Kids! That’s enough!”
Marcus pulled Macie’s hair. “I am not!” He ran to the other side of the sculpture.
The girls chased him. “You are, too! Marcus is stupid! Marcus is stupid!”
Samantha’s face turned red. “Kids!”
The triplets ran around Samantha and the sculpture two more times until Marcus bumped it. It fell to the floor into a wet lump. He stopped running and looked up. “I’m sorry, Mommy.” His lip quivered as tears welled in his eyes.
Rebekah smirked. “See, you wouldn’t have done that if you weren’t so stupid!”
Samantha scowled. “Look what you’ve done! I want every one of you to go upstairs to your rooms and take a nap!”
Macie bit her lip. “But Marcus started it.”
Samantha knelt by the clay and narrowed her eyes at the triplets. “Yeah, well, I don’t care who started it! I’m going to finish it! I have a deadline in one week to have this piece done in time for the grand re-opening of the cancer center where your daddy died, and now I’m going to have to start all over again. I don’t even have enough clay. I’m going to clean this mess up, and as soon as you three take a nap, we’re going to drive to the art supply store and you will behave. Do you understand me?”
The triplets nodded and headed out of the studio.
Samantha shook her head and began cleaning the mess. She mumbled as she pulled the garbage can closer. “I just want some time to myself. I swear, sometimes, I wish I didn’t have kids at all. When Michael was alive, he could keep them entertained while I worked, but it seems like every time I turn around, they’re getting into something…”
She cringed and looked up. “What happened?”
“Macie did it!”
“I didn’t mean to! It was an accident!”
She took a deep breath. “Go get in bed, all of you! And don’t touch anything!” She swiped her hands over her face and stood. When she walked into the corridor, she saw her favorite vase in pieces on the floor. Her hand covered her mouth, and tears welled in her eyes. Why can’t you kids just leave me alone? Ever since Michael died, it seems like I spend all my time cleaning up messes. I just want some time to myself to get things done around here.
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Time to talk: Can you imagine raising young triplets all by yourself? Have you ever known triplets? How about twins? Have you ever sculpted anything?