Issue 10
Pure
Gary Cadwallader
Home
Welcome
Contents
Contact Us
Join Our Mailing List
What's New
Site Map
Site Search
The Ice Princess
Rosemarie, the Ice Princess, lived in snowy Minnesota. In the
spring the priest would put ashes on her lovely forehead--the same priest she
confessed to twice a week to keep her soul pure--but when she smiled, she
kept her teeth together.
She was almost perfect. A mole high on her cheekbone kept her
looking in the mirror, and as she stared, her eyes turned green.
She kept rabbits in pens, parrots in cages, and dogs on chains.
She poured closeted love on Golden Retrievers like she was filling their water
dish. And she lived in a house with barred-windows, where she knitted gifts for nieces
and nephews.
As the years went by she was no longer tall and thin, no longer a
babe, no longer a princess. Her face puffed out and the mole grew dark.
"Father, I have impure thoughts," she said while looking at the
mole in her mirror. She hardly noticed what he said. "What was that?"
"I said," came the whispering voice in the dim light, "Say ten
Hail Marys and for God's sake start to live."
~Gary Cadwallader
Gary lives on a yacht somewhere in the Nebraska sea...but he can
still get email.
© 2002 by Gary Cadwallader. All Rights Reserved.
© Copyright 2002 by Cayuse Press. All Rights Reserved.
This page updated December 23, 2002.