Older sister Nancy and I make our own Thanksgiving. We finagle a turkey, just like Mother did. Of course, we burn it. Same with the biscuits, which fall apart, like homes. Empires.
Next we try to arrange the table, Mother and Dad’s chairs. Empty, yet elegant.
When we try to give thanks, words won’t form, emptiness stuck in our throats. The world’s demanded bills, seduced parents with wanderlust. Forced us to survive when we should live.
We laugh at the idiocy of it. Mother and Dad would, if they were here.
Of course, mentioning them, laughter turns to tears.
Nothing holds.
Yash Seyedbagheri is a graduate of Colorado State University’s MFA program in fiction. His story “Soon,” was nominated for a Pushcart and he has also had work nominated for The Best Small Fictions. Yash’s work is forthcoming or has been published in journals such as 50 Word Stories, Silent Auctions, City. River. Tree. and Ariel Chart.