If Tammy thought about it logically she could figure out exactly what film it was. It was definitely a comedy, something light. She could tell by the way her mom bounced when she walked. It had cheered her up. She even felt like cooking so that was an even better sign, definitely the movie had had some happy domestic scenes. Tammy couldn’t figure out what the catch phrase meant but her mom smiled whenever she said it. Tammy remembered the afternoon her mom kept throwing back her head in an exaggerated laugh at everything, equally annoying was the seventies style head scarf she insisted on wearing for a week. This was better. She heard the “Hurts good don’t it” just a second before the ceramic cup she painted in fourth grade whizzed past her temple.
8 min @ Frisson Espresso, W 47th St. NYC
excerpt from The New Yorker, February 27,2017