Here Come Old Flat Top By Kate Tighe

June 24, 2013 Comments Off on Here Come Old Flat Top By Kate Tighe

Oh hi. Long time no —

—Just moved back. With my husband. Trust you’ve been well.

—Yes, married now.

—Thought you preferred blondes?

—What about that one? With the volleyball? Seems like just the girl for you.

—Well, she’s a smart dresser.

—I’m not patronizing. I’m being nice.

—God! Don’t lie down. Didn’t you bring your own towel?

—Fine, I’ll sit up. We can share, just this once.

—My husband? He’s wonderful. Patient. Loving. Kind. Hardworking.

—No. Not boring at all. He’s good. You wouldn’t understand.

—Of course I can be good. For the right man.

—Of course he is.


—It’s different now. I’ve grown up. I’m happy. You should try it.

—Seriously. Why don’t you go bother that blonde girl? Doesn’t she look smart in her bathing suit?

—Speak of the devil! Yoohoo! Hi!

—Get off! I want to meet her.

—Hello dear! Sorry to intrude. Hope this is not too much. It’s just that my friend and I go way back and he was just telling me how much he fancies you. Thought I’d play my hand at matchmaker. What’s your name?

—Cindy! Cindy-in-the-gingham-bathing-suit. How perfect! Please join us!

—Come now, don’t be rude. Invite Cindy to sit down. Anyone for iced coffee?

—Okay, I’ll go for a wander. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Anymore.

So? How’d it go?

—Pity. I’ll have to drink hers.

—Okay, well, if you’re going to hang around—

—I was going to say, if you’re going to hang around, I should probably get going.

—Why? Well, the sun is setting. And what, honestly, are we doing here? Alone?


—You misinterpret my goosebumps. It’s cold.

—They could be goosebumps of revulsion, because I hate the thought of you touching me.

—You ask every sort of question! Pull every kind of truth from me!

—What truth? Here’s one: Remember when you used to leave brown piss in the sink? That was disgusting.

—You think that’s funny? Here’s another: your back pimples are hideous for the amount of pus they hold.

— Again you laugh! You laugh and I feel compelled to explain you to yourself in more detail, when what I should do is walk away.

—I feel like I’ve caught a disease and its name is You.

And now—

I’m in the bath, trying to wash you off me. To purify. Maybe I’ll light some incense. We could take a vacation. Husband and I. Get away for a while.

I’m scrubbing my skin with this white loofah, trying to remove all traces of you.

Your pee and your acne.

Your cruelty. My helplessness.

(Or was it the other way around?)

© 2013 Kate Tighe

Kate Tighe is working on her first novel. She cofounded, a community for writers and book lovers from Brooklyn and farther afield. She lives in Brooklyn with her husband and thinks “Come Together” is the Beatles’ funkiest song.

Comments are closed.

What’s this?

You are currently reading Here Come Old Flat Top By Kate Tighe at Flash Fiction Musings for The Literary Minded.


%d bloggers like this: