The Age of Optimism

                                             a short story by Cindy Hammel

     At first Nathalie thought it was a rash. It itched. It was red. She got a special pillow to sit on at work and insisted on eating in the kitchen standing up, which annoyed her husband.

     “You’re not that busy,” he said.

     “Yes I am.”

     “Will you just sit down and relax?”

     “I don’t feel like sitting down. I’m restless.”

     Her husband thought she was avoiding him. He asked his friends for advice.

     “Look, she’s feeling neglected,” they said.

     “Tell her she’s beautiful. Kiss her. Bring her flowers. Do the dishes.”

     “You need to switch up the cologne,” they said.

     “Yeah, that shit you wear smells like Grandpas.”

     “Make like you’re dating again. Women love that romantic stuff. Don’t worry. She’ll come around.”

     So he followed their advice, and it all went marginally well. She liked flowers. She did hate his cologne. It smelled like her Grandpa. She liked kissing. But then at the end of the day, she’d still hide in the walk-in closet, change into her flannel pajamas and refused to explain why.

     The Aloe Vera, the Hydrocortisone cream, the Shea Butter, salt scrubs, mud treatments, oil baths, baking soda baths, clay masks and herbal salves were all fabulous, except they didn’t work. She went to the doctor.

      The doctor rubbed his chin, and stared at her backside. He told her it was razor burn. But that was impossible. She never shaved her rump-cheeks. Who does that? He thought it might be an allergic reaction. He gave her some ointment and sent her on her way. He was clueless.

      The red itchiness went away as soon as the feathers appeared. On Friday afternoon she got home from work early and had the flat to herself. Her husband arrived not long after and caught her with her pants down in front of the full-length mirror, staring at her rump. It was bursting with new plumage. She was afraid her husband would be repulsed, horrified. But instead he just stood there and laughed.

     “What’s up, Chicken Butt?” he asked.

© Cindy Hammel 2011. Some rights reserved. Except where otherwise noted, this work is licensed under http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/