Taupe Step Stool
to the pharmacist who seems to be taking her time.
This place is bustling.
God, why do I wait for the last minute to do everything?
Finally, the line shortens and I make it to the counter.
Then, I see it and start to remember—
she’s standing on the taupe step stool from my childhood home.
In the kitchen, it was used to reach the ice cream cones.
In the closet, to grab our box of hair ties and bands.
In the bathroom, to wash our hands.
One hundred lines carved atop to create traction.
The only problem, it dirtied with acceleration.
It would bring my mother great disgust.
I’d find her scrubbing with a toothbrush
just to bring the taupe step stool back to an acceptable color.
This memory, it reminds me—I’ve ended up just like my mother.
Maladjusted, obsessive, ardent.
Trying futilely to take control of our lives.
Writer: Marissa Davisson is an English tutor and student at Fullerton College. She enjoys her time with her four year old son, Charlie, reading books, and traveling with her family. When it comes to writing, Marissa likes to write about supernatural happenings and the misadventures of everyday life.
Artist: Melissa Steele is a self-taught artist dabbling in acrylic & oil paintings as well as spontaneous shenanigans.