A flood makes a sound,
Daddy says, and that sound changes everything.
I see a wooden floor,
one polished smooth,
The other is buckled.
from decades of dancers,
from the covering, uncovering layers
of river silt.
I smell burgers, fries, froth
from children’s spilt milkshakes,
mud, rot, and old insulation
that hangs from exposed rafters
housing brown spiders the size
of malt balls.
I hear a rockolas in the corner,
high heels hitting hardwood floors
as dancers twirl and twist and laugh and fall in love
as fish splash, and the empty
buzz of mud daubers echo
in the long ago kitchen.
I run my finger along the mud line
as my daughter presses herself
against the wall.
Measure me! she demands. Would I have been underwater? Yes, and I trace the carved initials decades old.
That sound, Daddy says, changes everything.
Candice Marley Conner loves fairytales and has to take turns with her five year-old and two year-old on who gets to be the villain. Evil cackles and rawrs have been mastered by all. She is represented by Lotus Lane Literary and has a YA mystery and MG fairytale retelling out on submission.