Good Narrative Principles

Little Pinkie Toe


My pinkie toe, the one that goes wee-wee-wee all the way home, hurts. Instead of driving to the playground after school, Mommy takes me to the shoe store where all those very pretty red shoes sit in the window. I can’t wait. I don’t even bug Mommy about stopping for doughnuts or ice cream or the Hello Kitty backpack that she promised Santa would bring for Christmas. (She did promise) Instead I sit quiet until Mommy parks the car, takes bratty baby Ruby out of her car seat and opens the car door so that I can run to the curb on the other side of the street when Mommy says “now”. There’s a dog with big teeth right near the door waiting. For me. He sees me. I see him. The only thing keeping me safe is his leash that’s chocking him now cuz he wants to eat me up badly. I won’t go in. Even though I want the red shoes I will not walk past the dog. We go home. My pinkie toe still hurts.

(Installation: Pernel Berkeley)

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