The Bluestone Review Spring 2022

My daughter came and went. I raised the granddaughter. Got her in school. Began to find time for myself again. Met a good man. We dated and had fun. I was thirty-eight years old and living the best I ever had. When Aunt Flo didn’t visit for a few months, I figured it was menopause. We were careful. My breasts became tender, and I couldn’t deny the little butterfly movement in my belly. I told the man. He was overjoyed. “A baby. A baby at my age,” he said. Nobody asked me. The Monster By Nancy Davis The monster is at the door. Slowly, he’s creeping inside. He slips He leaves his tracks in the kitchen and in the living room. He comes up the steps and is there inside the bedroom while I’m sleeping. He has come to get me, but not yet. He has taken my diamonds and hidden them, just for fun. I think I will find them sooner or later because he has done this before. He doesn’t really intend to pawn them. It is just to torment me. When I go out for groceries, he hides my grocery list, and I don’t find it until I’ve done my shopping and gone home, and there it is, put back in the kitchen. He hides the knife I need to peel potatoes; he takes my glasses from the bedside table, and it takes me days to find them. He moves the book I’m reading to an unknown place. Sometimes it reappears. Some times it doesn’t. He likes to steal my car keys so that I must spend hours looking for them. I must carry two sets now because he follows me when I go out and takes things from my purse when I’m not looking. He takes my appointment cards from the back of my checkbook. When I look for them, they are never there. He has caused me to miss appointments that were very important. in, then leaves for a while, but he always comes back.

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