Whispered Prayers

by Alex Grayson

I emerge from my bedroom dressed in jeans, a green thermal shirt, and bare feet. The TV is on when I walk out into the living room. The boy is sitting on the floor leaning against the couch, watching a bunch of meerkats run around on the screen, while the girl has her head bent over a book she’s writing in. A pang hits me square in the chest at the sight. Once upon a time I wanted this scene to be my reality, and while this is reality, it’s not my reality. It’s fake, it’s someone else’s. It’s the woman’s who’s in the kitchen cooking something on my stove. Seeing the fire has dwindled down, I walk over, crouch, and throw a couple small logs into the fireplace. Standing, I walk into the kitchen. Gwen is scooping the potato soup into bowls. When she hears my approach, she turns with a smile on her face. “What’s that smell?” I ask. She grabs one of the bowls and hands it to me. “Sugar cookies.” I nod and dip my spoon into the soup, bringing a chunk of potato to my mouth. She watches me eat for a moment before grabbing the other bowls and setting them on the bar. “This is good,” I mumble around a mouthful. “Thank you.” She fidgets for a minute. “I feel strange being in your kitchen. Like I’m imposing in someone’s space. I don’t feel right looking through your cabinets with you standing there.” She laughs. “So, where are your glasses?” Carrying my bowl with me, I walk over to the cabinet by the fridge and open it, showing her the shelf of glasses and cups. She smiles gratefully ...