She’ll Be Gone Before I Tell Her No

She’s been saving morphine.
“Euthanize,” she says, and stares
till I nod yes. She is losing
words like blanket and zipper
and doesn’t always make sense,
but when she calls to ask
if I’m coming soon, I know
what she means. On my porch,
the gardenia petals are turning brown.

Victoria Melekian lives in Carlsbad, California. Her stories and poems have been published in Mudfish, Literary Orphans, Atlanta Review, Valparaiso Fiction Review, Word Riot, and other anthologies. She’s been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and was a runner-up in the 2018 Bath Flash Fiction Novella-in-Flash Award. Her story “What I Don’t Tell Him” aired on NPR. She’s twice won a San Diego Book Award. For more, visit http://www.victoriamelekian.com.

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