“It’s from the Mexicans,” she explained, slicing the cake.
“Mom,” I protested. “They have names.”
“I can’t remember…”
“Hugo and Gina. They’ve lived next door for more than a year.”
“They’re nice,” she admitted, “but I don’t let them in.”
Later that afternoon, the “For Sale” sign appeared next door.
Tony Jasnowski teaches English at Bellevue University in Bellevue, NE. He is grateful for those neighbors who welcomed his own immigrant parents and siblings many years ago.
One of the brakes on my bike is broken. It doesn’t matter. It’s flat here.
Smiling white folks wave at me from golf carts. The weather is always warm. I married up.
I wonder if I’m as good as they are. Or as bad. Maybe I’m both. But hopefully neither.
Sarah Hausman likes to keep her bio shorter than her stories. Links and updates can be found at Facebook.com/sarahhausmanwrites
Mr. Tomlin hesitated. Despite their dispute, how could he not give his next-door neighbour a bag of apples when other neighbours received theirs?
He stepped onto the porch, rang the doorbell.
“Want some apples? Bumper crop this year.” He cringed.
The neighbour paused, then said, “Much obliged. You like tomatoes?”
Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Her published works can be found online, in magazines and anthologies.