Collateral, by Cherie Hunter Day

Truck and Sign, photography by Walker Evans (USA) c. 1928-1930

Collateral 
 
The old neighbourhood is gentrified, fully electrified. Hot messages require larger and better signage. It takes three strong men to deliver this one. Jumbled wiring and over three hundred tiny bulbs trucked in from the Village. Guaranteed to light up the night. For her shift at the diner, she’ll be Gladys. On Sunday she’ll be Rose for the boys smoking behind the rectory. Her account at the corner store is under the name Conway. She’s been on her own for a while and likes to keep people guessing. She carries two smooth stones in her pocket and a small crucifix to keep her hands company. She remains quiet about her past. It’s none of anyone’s business.

Cherie Hunter Day

Cherie Hunter Day lives in the San Francisco Bay Area among some thirsty redwoods. Her work has appeared in Mid-American Review, Moon City Review, Rust & Moth, Unbroken, and been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best Microfiction anthologies. Her most recent collection, A House Meant Only for Summer (Red Moon Press, 2023), features haibun and tanka prose. When not writing poetry and micro prose, or making collages, she is outside cleaning up after the aforementioned redwoods.