by Liane LeMaster
“Your uterus will fall out if you read those things,” her mother says.
Her mother takes a jar of gravy, a loaf of bread, and a stalk of celery from the cart and places it on the conveyor belt.
The girl looks back at the alien wondering what it eats for lunch, wondering if there are newspapers in its market with pictures of her staring back at him, looking not like herself, but like something he would recognize.
“If you look at that thing, I’m telling you, your uterus will slide right out of you in this supermarket and plop right on the floor.”
She’s heard the threats before: if she stares at the sun, she will go blind; if she cries too hard her face will freeze; if she touches her happy place, she’ll go deaf and blind and lose all the feeling in her right hand; if she takes the newspaper, as she does now, she will lose all power to have babies, an idea that seems suddenly familiar and right. Babies drool and spit and poop and cry and they are always in danger of losing their eyesight or their internal organs.
“Did you hear what I said?” her mother lifts a box of oranges from the cart. She has to shift her weight in order to balance. Oranges are heavy.
“If it falls out, I’ll pick it up,” the girl says, looking closely at the alien. “I’ll put it in a terrarium and feed it cookies and Pixie Sticks and grilled cheese and not make it eat grapes or broccoli.”
Her mother snatches the newspaper from her hands and places it on the belt. It slides down behind the carton of eggs and the box of oranges, pock-marked and too brightly colored to seem real. For a moment, she’s afraid that the alien will slide under the belt, get trapped and be forever looped, but the clerk lifts it up just in time, scans it and throws it down toward the bagger.
“That’s the same alien as last week,” the bagger says.
All content in SmokeLong Quarterly copyright 2003-2013 by its authors.
Liane LeMaster's fiction has appeared in the Chattahoochee Review, the Mississippi Review, Sub-Lit, and has won the Porter Fleming Literary Prize. She is finishing her MFA at Georgia State University where she was the recipient of the 2006 Paul Bowles Fellowship for Creative Writing. She lives in Atlanta and lets her daughters look at tabloids but only while standing in line at the supermarket where they are impossible to avoid.
Read the interview.
Robinson Accola creates artwork for SmokeLong Quarterly as needed.
|Issue Twenty-Three (December 15, 2008):
Ants by David Aichenbaum «»
Earthrise by Christopher Bundy «»
The World Before This One by Jon Chopan «»
Ghost Bike by Thomas Cooper «»
The Sway of Trains by Lydia Copeland «»
Impressionists by Debra A. Daniel «»
Danseuses Nues by David Harris Ebenbach «»
The Head Fields by Terry Ehret «»
Shadows by Sherrie Flick «»
Heroin Girl by Larry Fondation «»
She Doesn't Ask Where He Goes by Stefanie Freele «»
Caved In by Barry Graham «»
Chicago World's Fair, 1893 by Kyle Hemmings «»
Coat and Shoes by Tania Hershman «»
Thirteen by Tai Dong Huai «»
Phoenix by W.P. Kinsella «»
Nearly Free by Dorianne Laux «»
Alien Lunch by Liane LeMaster «»
The Society for the Preservation of Everything by Kuzhali Manickavel «»
216 East Boalt by Jeannie Vanasco «»
Potatoes by Spencer Wise «»
David Aichenbaum «»
Christopher Bundy «»
Jon Chopan «»
Thomas Cooper «»
Lydia Copeland «»
Debra A. Daniel «»
David Harris Ebenbach «»
Terry Ehret «»
Sherrie Flick «»
Larry Fondation «»
Stefanie Freele «»
Barry Graham «»
Kyle Hemmings «»
Tania Hershman «»
Tai Dong Huai «»
Dorianne Laux «»
Liane LeMaster «»
Kuzhali Manickavel «»
Spencer Wise «»
Cover Art "morpheus" by Marty D. Ison «»
Letter From the Editor