Respect

"Why can't you just take the two seconds to put the toilet seat down?" "Why do you care?" "I put it down every time. It's a sign of respect for me and my sanity." Later: A Post-It note on the--vertical--lid, reading, "I respect you, but I'm lazy."

Albert

A short story published in The Elixir’s 2015-16 edition by our guest writer Becca:

becca

The Elixir

Albert by Rebecca Jarrett

The old man sat at the bar, nursing a whisky.

“Take it easy there, Albert. It’s only just half four; you should pace yourself.”

Albert smiled wryly at the grimacing barkeep. “I’m 81 years old and I fought in a war. I’ve served out Queen and this country. I think it’s well within my rights to have a drink or two.”

That barkeep shrugged, then turned back around to finish wiping down the glasses with a musty cloth.

The young man finishes his pint and pushes it toward the barkeep. “Cheers,” he calls over his shoulder- though he doesn’t bother to look back as he walks to the other end of the reception hall.

He is in his uniform, today. She likes a man in uniform, and he knows it. He uses it to his advantage.

“Hello, Matilda. What’s a young lass like yourself doing at…

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Good Things Will Grow

My short story published in The Elixir’s 2015-16 edition:

kate

The Elixir

Good Things Will Grow by Katelyn Rochford-Price

“Mommy, if I plant this in the garden, will it grow?” you ask, holding up an apple seed- the remains of your lunch.

“I don’t know,” I reply, “let’s go find out.”

We trudge out to the backyard, using your colorful plastic shovel to dig a patch of soft earth. You reverently place the seed in its shallow bed and begin to sprinkle dirt over it. Soon the deed is done.

“When will it become a tree?”

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