The Gold Mine, 2012-2013

head, then turned on his heel and left the room. Cynthia heard the front door slam, and began pacing the room, crying in frustration. “I want that orchid,” she thought, absentmindedly crushing a piece of the broken glass beneath her heel. She bent, and started picking up the pieces with her hands. She felt a sudden sting in her finger, but continued picking up all of the slivers, even as her blood began to streak the tile floor and mix with the liquor.

She went to the bathroom, and washed her hands with warm soapy water. It burned her finger, and she ignored it. Her swollen eyes were fixed on the reflection in the mirror; a few bits of her hair had come free from her bun, framing her round face.

She tucked them back into place, and with some difficulty managed to curl her lips into a faint smile. “I have to get dinner started,” she thought, “And the kitchen tile needs scrubbing.”

Although she couldn’t remember when it happened, she had decided not to make the apple pie. Instead, she went straight into making the roast. Chopping up the carrots, potatoes and celery vigorously so that she could get to cleaning the floor.

She took the thawed slab of beef out of the refrigerator and plopped it onto the cutting board. While she applied the seasonings her thoughts jumbled together. “Salt, Pepper…how could he do that? Paprika, ground onion… garlic, who does he think he is to tell me no? Now where’s the flour….” She grabbed it from the cabinet, and a sudden pang from her finger caused her to very nearly drop the bag. “Oh!” She looked at the slit, now filled with a wet mixture of spices and blood from the meat. Clearing her throat she carried on, quickly covering the beef with flour and tossing it into the pan of vegetables. After pushing dinner into the oven and setting the timer she began scouring the floor, paying careful attention to the mess Bill’s scotch had made earlier.

Once the kitchen seemed clean enough Cynthia examined her spice rack, making sure that each had been returned to its proper place on the shelf, and then remembered that she had to prepare the garden bed for the rose bushes. As she walked outside the smell of rain rolled over her. Retrieving her spade from the shed, she began driving it into the waiting earth. It was cathartic, digging…she grinned as the blade severed several earthworms in half in one stroke. Rain began to fall lightly as she formed a U shape around the well. If she went all the way around, no one 47