I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing my teeth. Since switching to an electric toothbrush, I barely moved my arm doing so anymore. I used to be paranoid about my right forearm becoming noticeably more muscular than my left because of how energetically I brushed my teeth everyday; two or three times a day, depending on whether or not it was a weekday when I ate lunch at school and didn’t want to be one of those kids that brought a toothbrush and toothpaste to brush my teeth in the school washrooms after lunch or it was a weekend where I ate lunch at home and it was perfectly normal and encouraged to brush my teeth after every meal. The Oral-B electric toothbrush my mom had bought me for Christmas was a technological miracle that revolutionized my life and brought me a peace of mind that I now take for granted. I don’t think I thanked her for this gift as much as I appreciate it everyday. Now after all these years, I think maybe I’ll do so the next time I see her. I spat into the sink. I gurgled and I rinsed. I lifted up my head back to look into the mirror and I winked at myself. First my left eye, then my right. I thought, someday when I wink at a cute boy like they do so charmingly in movies, I would like to be able to do it right. Then I opened my eyes real wide, shooting up my eyebrows real high and stretching my smile so far horizontally and made myself laugh. This continued for a full five to seven minutes after the brushing of my teeth. Satisfied with myself, I emerged from the bathroom.
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This one time...
Short StoryI love my family. More in retrospect and from a few cities away in my twenties, but even up close and personal, I love my parents and my grandmother. At the end of my life, or even after a few quick keystrokes into my laptop in these moments, I woul...
