The Mean Sister

Micro Short Story

Chapter One

Inspiration comes from the most unlikely places.

My sister was frying the chicken. It was golden, beyond belief. The best chicken north of Lefferts Boulevard.

Her daughter, my niece, was spoiling her appetite, munching on the chips I had just brought from the corner market.

“I told you to hide those chips,” sis’ eyebrows always bounced when she was whisper-yelling at me.

“Sorry, I wasn’t fast enough,” I replied.

My niece was clueless. Or she feigned innocence.

I knew she wasn’t stupid. She probably knew we were talking about her.

“Help me set the table,” I said to the little one, trying to distract her.

“Oh, OK.” She tugged on my skirt. “Who’s coming for dinner this time?”

None of them had met my latest beau. Maybe I shouldn’t call him that. But I knew one bite of sis’ fried chicken, and he would be mine forever.

I probably should have learned the secret recipe, but sis always managed to send me out on a chore or some lame excuse, so I would never see her prep work. She would never allow me to be her sous chef. She was just a meanie.

Grace Notes: Dear readers, please tell me, can you relate to any of this. Or am I stuck alone in this rabbit hole?

© Connie Song 2022. All Rights Reserved.

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