February 14, 2023

Listening

By Diane Payne

Photo credit: Erik Karits and Rıfat Gadimov.

You waken to the sound of an owl hooting, two cats screeching, and the sound of humans crying, their grief whirling into the eternity of nocturnal voices reaching out, a desperate call and response heard by insomniacs, dogs stuck in pens at night, and infants who awaken and join in the crying, the howling, the screeching, wondering why no is listening. 

You look out the window and see the silhouette of a neighbor mother picking up her infant, two cats running separate directions down the road, and the next-door neighbor family gathered beneath their large oak tree wailing into the night.  You know the young mother has died and go into the kitchen to make muffins, as if a plate of muffins will ease their loss, but it eases your loss of feeling unable to offer any solace.

You mix the blueberries into the batter, once again, remembering one by one your personal losses, understanding this neighbor family’s permanent loss, while the owl looks down at the family beneath the tree, the cats sitting on opposite sides of the yard watching the grieving family, as the baby falls asleep assured that someone is listening.

About the Author

Diane PayneDiane Payne’s most recent publications and forthcoming include: Best of Microfiction 2022, Quarterly West, Invisible City, Cutleaf, Miramachi Flash, Microlit Almanac, Spry Literary Magazine, Another Chicago Magazine, Whale Road Review, Fourth River, Tiny Spoon, Bending Genres, Oyster Review, Book of Matches, Abandon, Notre Dame Review, Watershed Review, Superstition Review, Windmill Review, Lunch Ticket, Split Lip Review, The Offing, Elk, and McNeese Review. dianepayne.wordpress.com

Related Flash
red lantern lamp turned on

In the Dark

By Ali Mckenzie-Murdoch

“Their names in lights, bright as their burning bodies, in the 1800s, ballet dancers often went up in flames. Gauzy tutus brushed flickering lamps, a pirouette of torched limbs, and incandescent hair.”

night view of sky

Husband, In My Dream

By Frances Gapper

“In my dream I sleepwalked downstairs and found you seated upright on the sofa, typing, typing. Couldn’t sleep, you said, because of the full moon’s horrible brightness.”

white skull table decor

I Once Was a Witch

By Joanna Ruocco

“The broad-shouldered kombucha brewer holds a brain in a jar. His raincoat is boring. There is no one else in the coatroom. Beyond the coatroom, the potluck is raging. I hear a crack-crack-crack, the gluten-free table buckling under the weight of… what?”

Pin It on Pinterest

Your Impossible Voice
Diane Payne
red lantern lamp turned on
night view of sky
white skull table decor
Share This