My mother was in the kitchen wringing her hands and pacing. "There’s nothing more that we can do here, ma’am,” one of the paramedics said. I asked if they wanted a slice of cake. “It’s double chocolate,” I said. “It’s my mother’s birthday today.” With a solemn tone, the young paramedic replied, “Thank you, but we’re not allowed to eat on the job.” I wondered how anyone could possibly find out and then, still in shock, I saw my mother sitting at the kitchen table cutting a big slice of cake while my dad lay dead on the bathroom floor.
Julia Abelsohn has been published in The Raven’s Perch, The Mindful Word, The Globe and Mail, Flash Fiction Magazine, Pigeon Review and Retreat West.