Author Archives: Rose City Sisters

Mise en place or yours? by Paula Johnson

They met at a potluck and bonded over Larry’s incredible cookies. “Scharffen Berger,” he murmured later as he kissed Justine’s neck. “Chocolate chips…for adults only.” She fell hard when he explained how he ground his own flour from organic wheat.

He planned the perfect meal for popping the question: Arugula salad with figs, prosciutto, and truffle oil. Coq au Vin with homemade egg noodles. To finish? Dark chocolate semifreddo drizzled with salted caramel syrup.

She said yes to seconds, and to forever with him. No traditional fondant-entombed wedding cake for them—each table at the reception was presented with a Croquembouche.

© Copyright 2019 Paula Johnson. All rights reserved.
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Paula Johnson is the founder and editrix of The Rose City Sisters website. Join her email list  and get invited to her book launch party!

The Conference by Margaret Welsh

The little child sat between her smiling parents whose knees almost touched their chins. The teacher in black, reclined in a chair shaped like a purple shoe, gazed down at the family eager to hear about their first-grader; they paid for this privilege. Most couldn’t ignore the Scorpion’s tail waving languidly over the teacher’s head, but these parents did. The teacher spoke to the child in her baby voice: “Who are your friends here?” She asked, cocking her head like a bird. The child kept her gaze, not to be anathematized and said back “You?”

© Copyright 2018 Margaret Welsh. All rights reserved.
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Margaret Welsh is a certified yoga therapist and actress who lives in Los Angeles.

Empty Nest by Susan Miller

“Mommy! Look!”

From the yard I watch my daughter lift her wings and jump from the deck. She hovers for a moment then tumbles to the grass. Robin climbs back up the steps. I wave and smile.

“Mommy! Watch me!”

Face scrunched with concentration she spreads her wings and launches into the air. Sunlight filters through the membrane of her wings, casting glitter across the yard. I see her silhouette against the blue sky as she soars higher.

I hear her voice as it drifts from the clouds.

“Mommy! I did it! I can fly!”

© Copyright 2018 Susan Miller. All rights reserved. Photo courtesy of Pexels.

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Susan Miller lives in South Dakota in a Green House.  She loves yoga, weaving, gardening and genealogy.  In her free time, she travels, drinks craft beer and enjoys bird watching.  Susan is married and the mother of sons.

The Black Baby by Kelly I. Hitchcock

“Mommy, look! A Black baby!” bellowed my four-year-old son, Silas, in a volume characteristic of all children his age. “He’s so cuuuute!”

I felt my insides immediately freeze, unsure whether to be mortified or not. Outwardly, I kept idling my shopping cart along the grocery store aisle, being careful not to quicken or slow my pace, eyes pretending to look around for the brand of ground thyme I like but can never remember before stealing a glance at the woman wearing the tiny baby in a carrier. We couldn’t have looked more different. She was tall; I am short, not even able to reach the lone packet of Red Star yeast she effortlessly extracted from the top shelf and dropped into her cart. She had shimmering dark caramel skin; I have pasty, dull skin with freckles. She had thick African braids bundled up like a crown on her head, making her look even taller; I have thin brown hair that clings to my head like it’s afraid to go out into the world.

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Where Are You, Mother? by Yash Seyedbagheri

You tell me it’s about space, a need to create your own life. Dad and sister Nancy will give me a better life.

Nancy calls me sweetheart. It sounds rehearsed for someone whose favorite word rhymes with “duck.” Dad communicates in grunts. Flatulence.

You taught me to admire Joyce Carol Oates, play Debussy. You said I was special. Said you’d see my words on a bookshelf.

You said fighting with Dad over freedom had nothing to do with me.

Why don’t you talk?

I store fleeting words. Do well. A mother can love from afar.

Talk to me. Please.

© Copyright 2020 Yash Seyedbagheri. All rights reserved.

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Yash Seyedbagheri is a graduate of Colorado State University’s MFA program in fiction. His work is forthcoming or has been published in WestWard Quarterly, Café Lit, 50 Word Stories, (mac)ro (mic), and Ariel Chart.

Photo by Darius Bashar on Unsplash

Now I’ve Heard Everything by Bonnie Schroeder

“What kind of dog is that?”

“German shepherd.”

“Naah—they don’t come in black.”

“Well, that’s what she is. Recessive gene.”

“Huh? No, she’s a mutt, Lady. You got gypped.”

“Oh, all right—I’ll tell you the truth. She’s an Arcanian Bat Hound.”

“Wow! Really? I’ve never seen one before. Uh—where’d you get her?”

“I had to import her, got special permits and all. Arcania doesn’t export them normally.”

“I bet. Uh—where’s Arcania?”

“Eastern Europe. Tiny country. You’ve never heard of it, right?

“Right.”

“That’s because it’s a shadow state—keeps its existence a secret.”

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