Talking to Myself Across From My Mother

There are foxes in suburbia.

There are men in suburbia walking circles around the neighborhood with sneakers on, they say that foxes travel alone and try not to be seen while the men in sneakers blow the leaves off their lawns with leaf blowers.

I want to say to that boy that I showered with some months ago, I’m sorry that you couldn’t handle me, it really is a shame because I loved you and those El Diablito matches I got for you in Portland, Oregon.

There was one time that I walked through the lush creek and wood behind my childhood backyard and twice a fox appeared out of my peripheral vision, I only saw that red-brown tail and nothing else.

The third time that I saw the fox was when it exited the woods and walked to the center of an empty green field and sat staring in my direction so I stared back.

After that I got my tarot cards read by a woman named Suriya who pulled an oyster card and a fox card as she explained that my throat chakra was beginning to open, “foxes are only seen when they want to be seen,” she told me.

That night by the field, the hazy afternoon sun turned to moon and the fox retreated back into the dark wood– his eyes turned away from mine; I was unsure of how to get home.

At night the old man limps from his lawn to the leather lazy Susan with a deep breath, well more of a sigh, resting easier knowing the tree trunk was rid of the dead leaves that instead lined the space between the driveway pavement and the grass, it makes me sad the way you left.

“How was your day?” his wife asks.

“It was good, Susan,” he replies.

“The mulch looks so fresh without all those dead leaves,” she tells him.

“I think so, too,” he softly smiles as the blue-lit television echoes through the living room and the Earl Grey tea goes from steaming hot to lukewarm.

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Halle T. Segal grew up outside of Philadelphia and moved to New York City from Vermont where she received a Bachelor of Arts degree in English writing. Halle has been published in three zines: The Gist, The Living Room Zine, and Phase Zero Zine. She has also been published in Literary Veganism: An Online Journal. Halle writes poetry and mini-prose pieces celebrating small moments, and is deeply fascinated with the mundane expressing itself as surreal. Halle enjoys road trips, film photography, wild animals, and the color purple.