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This writing was accepted for publication
in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book...
a Finch in the Window
Down in the Dirt, v150
(the October 2017 Issue)




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a Finch in the Window

Order this writing in the book
Negative Space
(the 2017 poetry, flash fiction
& art collection anthology)
Negative Space (2017 poetry, flash fiction and art book) get the 298 page poem,
flash fiction & art
collection anthology
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the Light
in the Sky

the Down in the Dirt
Sept.-Dec. 2017
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May-August 2017
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What Would You Do?

Kayla Scutti

    The family gathered around as the doctor spoke. “He only has a few more hours left.”
    Karen felt the room close in around her. Fog of unreality clouded her vision and voices became muffled. Her baby, the little boy that she rocked to sleep for six months, was leaving her. Cancer had taken over his body and made him into someone she didn’t recognize. As the respirator pumped behind her, Karen placed her face in her hands. She wasn’t ready. How can you ever prep yourself for something like this?
    “I’m so sorry,” the doctor said, packing up his bag. “I’ll leave you guys alone.”
    Karen’s husband drew her into his arms, and she began to sob. After losing her first child to a miscarriage, she knew that her son was a miracle. But now, God was taking him away from her too. Silently she cursed God for doing this to her a second time. Leaving her husband’s embrace, Karen walked over to the side of her son’s bed and sat next to him. Holding his hand in hers, she thought about how much it has grown in the last six years from that premature palm it used to be. His skin was still so soft as she rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb.
    “Karen,” her husband’s sad voice interrupted. “I’m going to take your parents to get some more flowers. Maybe some balloons, too.”
    Karen couldn’t hide the disgust in her voice. “Now?”
    “It’s right down the road, and honestly honey, I need a moment. It’s been days of this. I need some time to just wrap my head around what’s coming.”
    “You need some time alone with him, sweetheart,” came Karen’s mom from the doorway. “To...say goodbye....without any of us around.” Walking over to her, she embraced Karen tightly.
    “Thanks, mom.”
    Her dad came over and squeezed her shoulder without a word. He has never been good with death or comforting others in time of need.
    “Love you, honey; we’ll be back soon,” Karen’s husband kissed her cheek, and the three of them departed.
    After a few minutes of tears, Karen felt like she had to say something to him. Comfort him in some way. “Hey, buddy. I’m not sure if you can hear me, but if you can, I just wanted to...to say...I love you so much,” she started to sob again. “You have no idea, baby. I have never been happier in my life than these last six years. You have brought joy, unspeakable joy, to this family. Do you remember, when we went camping last year, and we put a toy snake in daddy’s sleeping bag?” Karen laughed, tears still streaming down her face. “Oh, he was so scared, you said he sounded like a girl when he yelled. Your laugh, that amazingly sweet laugh...” she couldn’t hold it together any longer. Big tears rolled down her cheeks into her mouth.
    The doorbell rang, and Karen thanked God for the distraction. Before leaving, she kissed her son’s hand. Once at the door, she looked through the peephole and didn’t see anyone. That’s odd, she thought, opening the door to make sure. Sitting in the center of the mat was a tiny square box. Karen bent down to grab it. It was black and smooth to the touch. About the size of a Rubix cube. Karen looked at it with puzzlement at the kitchen table and turned it around to get more information about this mysterious box.
    There was a small button on the top, so Karen pushed it in. Just as she had hoped, it popped open, and inside was a folded piece of paper and a larger red button. Karen placed the box gently on the table so she could unfold the paper. Gasping, she read it again, almost not believing the words written.
    “If you want to save your son’s life, press the red button. But beware, it will cost more than one life to repay.”
    Karen grabbed a cigarette, light it, and took a long drag. Is this real? Who could have known that he son was dying? But, even if it were true, who had that kind of power? To bring one life back in exchange for another, that sounded like some voodoo nonsense that gave her chills. So many questions raced through her mind. Would she know the person that was taken, or would it be some random nobody? Someone that wouldn’t be missed.
    The Catholic inside of her was whispering not to do it. How could she live knowing that her son was saved in exchange for a different soul? Although, if it was someone meaningless, that might be ok. Oh, but who was she to judge if a life has meaning or not?
    For what seemed like hours Karen fought with herself silently. The angel on her left was saying that it was her sons time. Everything happens for a reason. But the devil on her right kept reminding her that her son never got a chance to live. Six years is barely enough time to learn how to tie your shoes.
    Just after Karen read the note again for the hundredth time, loud beeping came from her son’s room. She knew this meant that he was leaving her forever. Panic struck, and without thinking, she slammed her palm on the red button. The beeping stopped, and Karen heard a sound that made her fall to her knees.
    “Mom? Where are you?”
    Getting up to see her beautiful son, she sobbed. He was alive! Did it work? But what did this mean? Again, so many questions flood through her head. She didn’t have enough answers, yet she reacted so quickly.
    What could be more important than saving her son? A voice asked inside. There was no need to tell anybody. When her family came home, they could all chalk it up to a miracle. No one had to know.
    The doorbell rang again before Karen got to the room. She ran to it and threw it open without looking first. The smile left her face, and her stomach dropped to her knees. Two cops stood before her, hats under their arms.
    “Ma’am, I’m afraid there has been an accident. We are going to need you to come with us.”
    Karen’s head filled with fog again. “I...I can’t. My son, he’s sick, and I can’t leave him. What happened?”
    “You’re husband and parents were hit by a drunk driver, ma’am. I’m afraid...” the officers looked at one another, then back to her. “I’m sorry ma’am. They didn’t make it.”



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