Lindsay Fowler, 8/5/2013

Current Occupation: Insurance Policy Rater
Former Occupation: Staple puller
Contact Information: Lindsay Fowler lives, works, and writes in central New York, and will continue to do so until August, when she will be leaving her not so cushy desk job to begin her MFA at the University of Maryland.



Music Box

    Clara locked herself in the middle bathroom stall, the one where the dull ceiling light shone brightest.  Closing her eyes, she twisted her hair up into a bun and held it there, imagining herself the great ballerina she’d always been told she’d be.  Her eyes closed, the ceiling light became a spotlight following her closely in the confines of the stall as she executed perfect movements in miniature.

    The chattering of coworkers approaching the bathroom intruded on her internal ballet.  Clara brought her dance to a halt: she couldn’t be caught pirouetting in a toilet stall.  Facing the toilet, she opened her eyes and saw the unflushed remnant of someone else’s toilet paper swaying gracefully, like a sea anemone, in perfect time with the Tchaikovsky that still echoed in her head.

    Her number over, she bowed to flush the toilet.  The bathroom door opened to admit her unwanted audience, and her solitude evaporated.  Releasing her hair from its perfect bun, she exited the stall and returned to her cubicle.

3 Comments on “Lindsay Fowler, 8/5/2013

  1. I found this story via Leah’s blog and am so happy I did. I really liked what I read. I loved the use of the bathroom stall as a music box – very creative. I’m definitely looking forward to more writings by Lindsay Fowler.

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