Flash in the Pan
A Quarterly Posting at Tiny Lights
Why I Need To Learn To Speak Up
by Lynn Sunday
"I've got the mail," I called out our front door to my husband Lee. He was heading down the sidewalk in front of our house, past our driveway, toward our mailbox three houses away. Hootie, our black and white terrier mix, followed behind.
Lee turned to me and smiled agreeably as though I hadn't spoken. "I was at the end of the street talking with Gerry." he said, squinting a little in the bright sunlight and brushing his gray, almost white hair back from his eyes. "He's planted a vegetable garden in his backyard and says to expect fresh tomatoes soon." Lee continued on toward the mailbox.
"I've got the mail." I said, raising my voice.
"What did you say?" he asked loudly, turning partway toward me cupping his right hand to his right ear. "Hold that thought a minute, I'm getting the mail."
"I'VE ALREADY GOT THE MAIL!!" I bellowed, loud enough to be heard in the next neighborhood. Hootie's ears shot up in response; he gazed back at me, surprised.
Oh good," Lee said smiling, turning back toward our house. "What's for lunch?"
Lynn Sunday is a visual artist turned writer living in Half Moon Bay with her husband Lee and dog Hootie. Her essays have appeared in Common Ground Magazine, the Noe Valley Voice, and Passing It On (an anthology of essays about incorporating Buddhist principles into daily life).
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