Ms. Conti's Literature Lab

Soon, she’ll land. Her father will be shorter. Her mother’s bones, lighter.

“Aiyaa, it’s been five years.” It’ll need to be said.

At their apartment, she’ll unpack her suitcase: gifts, vitamins, medicine for their restless legs.

Her mother will kiss her. “We have these things in China now.”

In two weeks, they’ll repack her suitcase with the life she could’ve had: water spinach seeds, photographs, native honeysuckle cuttings for flowers that will make her weep.

In five more years, the honeysuckle will cross her fence. Its children will grow toward the highway, and then the ocean, and then, and then…

Source: This story was originally featured in NYCMidnight’s “Winning Stories, 100-Word Microfiction Challenge“- 2020. Writers were required to tell a story in 100 words or less. Explore NYCMidnight‘s site and enjoy more short stories!