A Bowl of Peas

Images of rodents and insects clamoring within the old farmhouse walls sent shivers up Lindsey’s spine.  But the agency needed interns, and she needed a degree.  The neglected building with its weeds and peeling paint appeared more haunted than livable.  The screen door, torn in several places, confirmed her suspicion of co-residing insects.  Not bothering to knock, she spoke through the open screen.

“Mrs. Pearl?”  She waited for a response and evaluated the interior of the small home through the haze of the screen.  Despite the outside neglect, the inside appeared well-kept and inviting.  Cozy, almost.  No response.

“I’m Lindsey.  The agency sent me for your session.” The agency in conjunction with the university provided home assistance for the elderly without family support.  Each graduate, required to intern for a six-month rotation within the community, spent a month at a time at various locations whether it be within a nursing home or an individual’s home.

“I’m coming in Mrs. Pearl.”  Although tempted to spend the next hour standing on the porch, Lindsey entered.

Short Stories