And you nod and smile politely because your wife knows you hate surprises, and you slip away to look for her, to give her what for, and Surprise! You find her crying. Crying in the arms of your twin brother. Why is she crying in the arms of your twin brother? You haven’t celebrated a birthday with him in years. And why are they staring at a photo of you and her? Or is it him and her? And why are they sharing stories of remember when, and such a shame? And now you’re not smiling, and you don’t feel polite. And you try, again, and again, and again to reach for her arm. Surprised, when you can’t.
Karen Crawford lives and writes in the City of Angels. Her work has been included in Best Microfiction Anthology 2025, Gooseberry Pie, Fictive Dream, The Citron Review and elsewhere. She is a multi-Pushcart, and Best of the Net nominee.
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