The Other Woman

by Michael Thomas Smith

About the Author: Michael T. Smith is an Assistant Professor of English who teaches both writing and film courses. He has published over 100 pieces (poetry and prose) in over 50 different journals. He loves to travel.

Excerpt

A drowsy silence hung over the endless rows of square houses along Pleasant Lane, a vestige of unironic, suburban “Americana” where neighbors left their doors unlocked, drank lemonade pitchers out on their porches, and watered their emerald green lawns in sync during the longest days of the year … which are only some of the reasons why it practically invited vice.

On her porch, a small outlet in front of the white behemoth of a house, Gladys Farrow sipped a tepid mug of tea and peeked through the overhanging trees at the houses across the way. Looking at the front porches through the branches was like looking through a hand brought close to the face.

“It tastes bitter.” Her friend, Betty, said.

“Oh, it doesn’t taste bitter,” Gladys said back, only half aware of her companion (who she’d probably pay more attention to if she was fifty yards away behind some obstruction). “It’s a drink fit for a king.”

“A deposed one perhaps.” Betty responded. She often grumbled that Gladys had lost all her senses, often including ‘mental’ in that mix.

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