More tea Señor?


When Mother died all that was left was a void, a hollow in my chest where my heart had been. I would dream about her though.

Nice dreams. I had sweet dreams of music, dancing, fiestas. We would put on our party dresses and dance together while the mariachis played. We would eat freshly baked pan dulce from plates stacked high. I wish it had stayed that way but it didn’t. It couldn’t. It changed.

I don’t dream of Mother anymore because to dream you must sleep and I seldom sleep these nights. I don’t want to be asleep when Mother is home. Mother is here, in this house. She speaks to me directly now. Oh, it began simply enough, “Adelita, you should put on a wrap, hace frio.” Or, “Adelita, put a pork roast into the oven. I love the way the aroma fills the kitchen.” I would come home and find fresh cut flowers in a vase next to my bed. I knew that they were from her.

Quickly though, it changed. She became hard. You know what I mean? And demanding. The first time she led me to do it. She started slow. “Adelita, that Señor Duran sat behind you in church today. I don’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“Adelita, Señor Duran followed you home from the market today. Be careful, mi hija.”

“Adelita, Señor Duran means you no good. You must stop him. You can easily kill a man with a blow to the head. A shovel would work well.”

When Señor Duran was killed last summer no one suspected me. After that it got easier. Señora Mendez was the last. They say she fell from the bridge, hit her head, and drown in the river. In fact they almost got it right! That is pretty close to how it happened. She didn’t fall though.

You know, Mother doesn’t even give me reasons to strike anymore. She just gives me the names and I do as she asks. The last name she gave me was yours, Señor. I hope you enjoyed your tea. You should be finding it hard to concentrate now and difficult to move.

Tomorrow is el Dia de los Muertos and I must go put flowers on Mother’s grave. Marigolds, she always loved marigolds. But tonight I must prepare a grave for you.


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18 thoughts on “More tea Señor?

  1. I love the matter of fact delivery of this – the calm of the narrator. She does a great job of building slowly to reveal the poor senor’s end. I’m left wondering what mother had against her townsfolk, or whether she actually has come back. This might just be one very extreme reaction to grief?

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    • Thanks very much for the kind words. I didn’t have enough words to explore the motivation behind the acts but I had just enough to enjoy the havoc and mayhem.

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  2. When I read ‘I hope you enjoyed your tea’ I laughed out loud – I think due to what Sarah Ann said, the matter-of-fact delivery, it was a cruel zinger, that she would ask a courteous question of her visitor while explaining that he’d been poisoned. Well done.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I am beginning to realize that I tend to instill calm and “matter of factness” in my twisted and/or scary characters. Maybe that makes them more so! At least to me!

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  3. Yikes! What a wonderfully creepy story. Like the others have said, the narrator’s down-to-earth delivery is such a great contrast to the acts she carries out at her mother’s behest.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks Suzanne. I’m learning a lot about how I build my characters here. This particular story has been a real eye-opening experience for me.

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    • I was trying to be careful with the Spanish. I wanted it for the story to carry the Dia de los Muertos atmosphere from the video prompt. I found with initial drafts that Mother was using too much Spanish and I don’t know how many readers are bilingual so I backed a lot of it out. I might have struck a good balance with you. This is a good thing.
      Thanks for saying nice things. I appreciate it!

      Liked by 1 person

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