“What? Did you not remember anything I said? I told you to get the creamy peanut butter, not the chunky!”
“You never listen to me! I bet you picked up the wrong bread too.” She peered into the bag again. “It’s plain white. I need gluten-free bread for when your sister visits tomorrow!”
Her husband threw up his arms. “I …”
“Did you get the car washed today?” he asked.
“No, but I …”
“See then! You think I don’t listen?”
A second bag sat at her feet. Everything was there.
“That other bag is for the food pantry,” he said.
“And I had the car washed yesterday.”
“Only mouths are we,” she thought. “Who sings the distant heart which safely exists in the center of all things?”
This was part of a prosery challenge for DVerse. The challenge was to write a short piece of fiction under 144 words that contained this line of poetry from Rainer Maria Rilke, “Only mouths are we. Who sings the distant heat which safely exists in the center of all things?”