Two Stories by Louella Lester

Trying to Avoid the Exterminator

He keeps hanging around the back lane thinking no one can see his face sunk into that oversized hoodie, but he can’t fool me, no hoodie can hide those eyes, eyes so hollow you can reach in and pull out his thoughts if you really want that, but of course I don’t, having been wedged into his head for far too long, so I go to the closet and dig out four lengths of jute, each one attached to a battered DVD, and tie them along balcony railing loose enough that they dance in the slightest breeze, the sun’s reflection arcing about the yard—it worked for the pigeons, at least until they got used to it.

Protecting Yourself

Lana’s shivering. The sun’s rising somewhere behind her, but she can’t look back to see it. She remembers walking home, yesterday, holding her brother’s hand, and him pointing out the tree he named after her. Saying the Lana tree goes to sleep in the fall, waits through winter for spring, then grows buds that’ll turn into summer leaves. And his hand was so warm. Warmer than the air. Not like his hand when Mom found him out back, this morning. Now, Lana goes into hibernation, leaves fallen and frozen into puddles at her feet.

Louella Lester is a writer and photographer from Winnipeg Canada. She has published flash fiction, micro fiction, poetry, & CNF in a variety of online and print journals. Her book Glass Bricks, came out last year.