When My Depression Doesn’t Lift, I Visit My Mother’s House and Let Her Take Care of Me
We see three toads on our walk down the mountain. They are spread out across the road, bodies flattened to paper, guts splattered in thick clumps. Do you think they all died together, I ask, but their bodies are too far apart to have been hit by a single car. The clouds shift and light filters through the pines, painting gold across the blacktop and it occurs to us perhaps the toads had been sunning themselves, soaking up heat from all sides. Later at the kitchen table, the sun through the window nearly blinds me. I close my eyes and lean into its warmth. Just like a toad, my mother jokes, but we don’t laugh. We both know what it takes to keep me alive.
Claire Taylor is a writer in Baltimore, Maryland. Her work has appeared in a variety of publications and has received nominations for Pushcart Prize and Best American Short Stories. In addition to writing for adults, Claire is the creator of Little Thoughts, a monthly print and digital newsletter of stories and poetry for children. Claire is a volunteer reader with Capsule Stories and serves as an In-House Agent for Versification Publishing. You can find her online at clairemtaylor.com and Twitter @ClaireM_Taylor.