Waiting for the Creel

by Victoria Sprow

The women had taken a hotel up in Maine, where the lobsters were. The room had a double bed and a kitchenette. The women slept with their backs to each other. The window opened out onto the bay.

When they dressed it was Sofia who turned first toward the wall. She didn't like being seen or seeing Alice either, because Alice had a smaller waistline and pecan-brown hair and smooth skin under her eyes. When Sofia was young she had been beautiful. But she was old now. It was too late to do anything about that.

Outside the hotel, three boys shot marbles on the sidewalk. The pavement steamed in the heat. It was already July; the ocean glistened in pewter.

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