Attie and the Owl By Susannah Jordan

I

Attie guided the car past horses and tobacco fields. An old house, its former contents piled on the porch, watched traffic through blank windows. A statue faced the door. There was no driveway. A ditch out front discouraged parking.

II

Attie turned to see her father at the table, locking eyes with identical gray ones. “Your mother liked owls,” he said, sliding a faded picture across the Formica. An inked owl hovered between pale shoulders.

III

An old house watched an intruder cross the road. The woman paused to rest, setting a winged statue down as headlights flickered closer. The driver missed the owl, but collided with the woman. The impact launched her into silent flight.

© 2013 Susannah Jordan

Susannah Jordan lives in N.C., where she is an MFA candidate in Creative Nonfiction at Queens University of Charlotte. In her free time, she takes the occasional stab at writing fiction. She serves as an editorial assistant for the graduate program’s Qu literary journal, which will release its first issue in April 2014.

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