Write on the Dot – Vol. III featuring me – Candelaria Silva

A short story of mine has just been published in Write on the Dot: Volume III. It is available for free. There was a launch party and reading by several contributors to the journal at the Harbor Gallery at UMass Boston last week. (Yes, I was one of the readers.) The writers were rich in diversity, varied in subject, and strong in their creations. Both fiction and poetry is included.

It is always validating to be chosen and published. My appreciation goes out to Lynn and Mitch of the Write on the Dot Committee. They worked diligently to publish the journal and to hold events at various places around Dorchester, including Savin Hill Yoga and Dot2Dot Café (a reading there this winter was about food.) The journal brings together Dorchester residents and students at U. Mass Boston.

Following is the first few paragraphs of my story, Eat This Food. To read the rest, get the journal.

Yippee!

Eat This Food

   When she saw him, she remembered that it had been good between them, once. It is funny how you can forget the good times when the bad times settle firmly in your life and become commonplace.

“Do you remember the time we fell in love?” he asked.

She did. She remembered a time of long walks and lunches in the tiny park overlooking the city on Regent Street.

            “Do you remember the fights?”

“Yes, I do,” she laughed. She remembered all of the ones that could/should be remembered.

“Remember the fight we had over tomato paste or rather the lack of tomato paste in the pantry”?

“Yes, I do. You hurt my feelings over that one.”

            “Your feelings were easily hurt.”

“Maybe,” she conceded. “But you didn’t have to be so mean! All you had to do was go to the store and buy another can or ten cans for that matter, of paste.”

“That wasn’t the point. I had gone to the store the day before. If you had just let me know we were out of tomato paste or added it to the list, I’d have picked it up.”

“It was a simple thing but you made it huge. You yelled at me and used that nasty tone of voice that cut into me like a knife.”

“And then you left the house. As I recall, you didn’t come back for an hour. I was worried sick about you. I thought I’d run you away for good.”