Published in Opium Magazine: 1120 Plain Street by Michelle Herrera
Here I found out that cats lost their teeth as they get older, just like people. Here I threw a tantrum. I lost my patience with my sock. I fought. And I won. Here I lit a cigarette and burned holes in my tee shirt. I realized I had cellulite on my thighs. I dropped a pot of glitter and I liked it. I read Cosmo on the can. Here I discovered lint under my bed. Felt myself up. Beat the wall with a stick. And canonized James Dean. I played the 1812 Overture as fast and as loud as I could on my beat up clarinet. I danced to every song on the West Side Story soundtrack. I jump roped every evening for a week. Here I received numerous bruises on my arms. I learned that tea stains; I forwent a marathon of my favorite t.v. show. Here I made a Halloween costume out of discarded clothing. I broke the cardinal rule of using a bookmark and doggy-eared a page. Here I mimicked Cinderella as I scrubbed the cat vomit of my floor. I refused to get up for one entire day. Here I watched The Rocky Horror Picture Show at 2 am while eating scrambled eggs after a high. I did a victory lap and a congratulatory polka dance. Here I lost my breakfast. And had the flu three times. I cleaned my mirrors with Windex and toilet paper. Here I was ashamed. I pretended I survived scurvy. I ordered Chinese. I disappeared for days. I drank an entire bottle of champagne so it wouldn’t go to waste. Here I slept it off after a long shower. I sweated the small stuff. I cleaned out the fridge periodically. Here I remembered to breathe. Here I peed with the bathroom door wide open.
Michelle Herrera was born and raised in El Paso, Texas. She currently lives in Las Cruces, New Mexico and attends New Mexico State University. She graduated in December 2008 with a Bachelors of Arts in English, minor in Creative Writing. She is now working on her Master's Degree at Queens University.