Showing posts from December, 2018

Lady Troddenhill: A Short Story (Jennifer Semple Siegel)

From the beginning, I have hated Lady Troddenhill. There she stands in the family room, large and imperious, her slim gray lines, her curves, her blinking green display, her nagging beeps. Judgmental bitch. Like a wild horse, she bucks, threatening to toss me off like a rag doll. Who needs that? Yet, for Sheldon, she performs perfectly: as Sheldon runs her tread – first at 4 mph, eventually reaching 5.5 mph, 15% grade – her well-oiled motor hums evenly. For the past three and a half years, Sheldon has run in place for one hour, every day, wearing out three pairs of Nikes. Damn him. My song, defiant and zaftig, echoes:
“Fat Lady Phantasy in B-Minor” Oh, Lord, I’m just another fat lady What song would you want me to sing? I’ll sing my song all over this place, praise Thee!
I’ll mix the blues with a symphony of paisley. Tell me, Lord, what colors may I bring? Oh, Lord, I’m just another fat lady.
Tell me, Lord, You think I’m red hot crazy? Please bestow me with rainbow pitch, no strings. I’ll sing my song …