Mathieu Cailler is a writer of poetry and prose. His work has been published in numerous national and international literary journals, and has been a finalist for the Glimmer Train New Writers Award, the New Rivers Press American Fiction Prize, as well as awarded the Short Story America Prize for Short Fiction. He lives in Los Angeles.---------
Fragile
across the road the home is close to vacant
with an In Escrow sign
jabbed deep into a patch of marigolds
and a moving-truck stuffed with boxes
rumbling on the driveway
inside the house
the man walks the floor plan one last time
runs his fingers along the eggshell walls
notices the imprints
where pictures used to hang
and spots grooves on the carpet
where polished furniture used to sit
she packed-up yesterday
crammed her blue hatchback with her things
rushed down the maple-lined street
clicked on her blinker
a bright flash against the steely day
and then turned right onto Highway One
now in the kitchen
the man savors the sound of his footsteps
on the blue tile—
the floor’s never been so sterile
the grout’s never been so bare
and he stares out the window at other homes
with cars in the driveways
and lights in the windows
over electrical poles and shingled roofs
at a slice of ocean lost in the distance
then he turns and reaches
for the last box on the counter
a heavy box on which fragile
is scrawled
in thick, black
capital letters