Yellow Mama Archives II

Monique Saier

Acuff, Gale
Ahern, Edward
Allen, R. A.
Alleyne, Chris
Andes, Tom
Arnold, Sandra
Baber, Bill
Baird, Meg
Baker, J. D.
Balaz, Joe
Barker, Adelaide
Barker, Tom
Barnett, Brian
Bartlett, Daniel C.
Bayly, Karen
Beckman, Paul
Berriozabal, Luis Cuauhtemoc
Beveridge, Robert
Blakey, James
Burke, Wayne F.
Burnwell, Otto
Campbell, J. J.
Cancel, Charlie
Capshaw, Ron
Carr, Steve
Carrabis, Joseph
Centorbi, David Calogero
Christensen, Jan
Clifton, Gary
Cody, Bethany
Costello, Bruce
Coverly, Harris
Crist, Kenneth James
Cumming, Scott
Davie, Andrew
Davis, Michael D.
Degani, Gay
De Neve, M. A.
Dillon, John J.
Dominguez, Diana
Dorman, Roy
Doyle, John
Dunham, T. Fox
Ebel, Pamela
Fagan, Brian Peter
Fillion, Tom
Fortier, M. L.
Garnet, George
Graysol, Jacob
Grech, Amy
Greenberg, KJ Hannah
Grey, John
Hardin, Scott
Held, Shari
Hicks, Darryl
Hivner, Christopher
Hohmann, Kurt
Holt, M. J.
Holtzman, Bernice
Jabaut, Mark
Jermin, Wayne
Jeschonek, Robert
Johns. Roger
Kanner, Mike
Karl, Frank S.
Kennedy, Cecilia
Keshigian, Michael
Kitcher, William
Kompany, James
Koperwas, Tom
Larsen, Ted R.
Le Due, Richard
Leotta, Joan
Lester, Louella
Lubaczewski, Paul
Lucas, Gregory E.
Luer, Ken
Lyon, Hillary
Mannone, John C.
Martinez, Richard
McConnell, Logan
McQuiston, Rick
Middleton, Bradford
Milam, Chris
Mladinic, Peter
Mobili, Juan
Mullins, Ian
Myers, Jen
Nielsen, Ayaz Daryl
Nielsen, Judith
Onken, Bernard
Owen, Deidre J.
Park, Jon
Parker, Becky
Pettus, Robert
Plath, Rob
Prusky, Steve
Reddick, Niles M.
Robson, Merrilee
Rollins, Janna
Rose, Brad
Rosmus, Cindy
Saier, Monique
Scharhag, Lauren
Schauber, Karen
Schmitt, Di
Sesling, Zvi E.
Short, John
Slota, Richelle Lee
Smith, Elena E.
Snethen, Daniel G.
Steven, Michael
Stoler, Cathi
Stoll, Don
Surkiewicz, Joe
Swartz, Justin
Taylor, J. M.
Temples. Phillip
Traverso Jr., Dionisio "Don"
Turner, Lamont A.
Tustin, John
Tyrer, DJ
Verlaine, Rp
Viola, Saira
Waldman, Dr. Mel
Weibezahl, Robert
Weil, Lester L.
White, Robb
Wilhide, Zachary
Williams, E. E.
Williams, K. A.
Woods, Jonathan
Young, Mark
Zelvin, Elizabeth
Zimmerman, Thomas
Zumpe, Lee Clark

Spirit Intoxicating Babe in the Woods

by Monique Saier


Eddie startles as Serita pulls up with her SUV, sitting half-asleep on the porch with his buddy, Milton, in the weak winter sun. She peers over to them, her cheeks flushed. The heater in the car had been on full blast the entire way home. Stupid rain caught her when she left the mall, soaked her arms and legs.

Eddie scrambles out of his chair.

“Aw, there she is!”

As usual, her cue to go into shut-off mode. He’s been throwing his weight around the house since Irvin, his cousin, left her. Ran off with that social media editor floozy at the local sports bar.

Swiftly she opens her door and swings her curvy legs out of the scorching cockpit, wearing tight jeans and thigh-highs.

“Hey, Lady Godiva!” he calls out, scowling, his eyes hooked on her high heels crushing the immaculate snow. He elbows Milton, watches her dab the sweat from her forehead and cleavage. “She’d better have some chicken wings. I’m starving.”

He gets a hard look. Come hell or high water; she had to return with that flat-screen, especially if it was only going to be the three of them for Christmas. 

Stuffing the hankie into her bra, she jumps out of the SUV, paces towards Eddie.

“Well, issit working now?”


“The washing machine?”

“Was Rome built in a day?”

“Can I wash now?”

“Patience is the virtue. Got somethin’ to eat?”

“Did you look at it yet?”

“Not yet,” Milton chips in with Eddie giving him a dirty look.

“Bravo guys, 2 pm already!”

Eddie stretches out his legs, Milton looks down to the ground.

“Low sugar levels, ya know.”

“Really? Low sugar levels? Both of ya? Getting that flat-screen was a miracle, ya know!”

Eddie folds his arms, pretends to be distracted by the neighbor’s car pulling in across the street.

Serita paces back to the SUV with their eyes glued on her legs. From the passenger seat, she grabs a tub of KFC, slams it down in front of them.

“Bon appetit,” she grunts, before snatching her shopping bags.

Eddie opens the KFC tub, inhales the smell of freshly fried chicken wings.

 “Whoah, nice and hot. Now for a couple of Budweisers,” he pushes his luck, while she slams the boot hard and drowns out his voice.

Whirling around with her shopping bags slung around her arms, she quickly heads for the kitchen, fed up with Eddie.

Her heart suddenly stops, and she lunges back like a cornered cat. Dan, her estranged neighbor, is suddenly standing right in front of her.

“Hey,” Dan greets her wearing an unbuttoned shirt, his six-pack peering through a sweaty t-shirt underneath.

“Hey...yourself,” she retorts, battling to look straight at him. Thanks to Jax, Irvin’s Jack Russel. The little troublemaker dug up Dan’s beloved dead cat straight after they moved in here.

“Who’s this?” Eddie demands, his mouth full.

“Thought you might need a hand with that,” Dan grins at her.

Gnawing on his chicken wing, Eddie gets up.

“Aren’t you the guy with the dead, dug-up cat?”

“Lay off, Eddie,” she summons him back.

Milton gets up, wiping his hands on his pants, and pulls Eddie away.

“Washing machine as in now, Dude,” he burps lightly.

“Alright, already! Just keep your grubby paws to yourself,” Eddie scowls, sizing Dan up all the way to the laundry.

 As Serita watches Dan unloading the flat-screen, she regains hope that they can bury the hatchet after all. The coldness between them is truly regrettable. After all, he appears to be really nice. If the spirit of Christmas was waving its magic wand around her for a change? Could she rectify that unfortunate incident?

“Something to drink?” she asks upon reaching the kitchen. Dan just pants, embracing her flat screen.

“Um, the two chicken-wingers finished all the beer. I only got some schnapps left,” Serita sighs, looking through the cupboard.

“No worries, something strong’s good.”

Smiling, she scrambles for a proper glass, pours him the old peach schnapps.

Quickly he downs it.

“All fixed up,” he gasps with glazed eyes and passes out.

When looking down at the label on the bottle, she startles: “Rectified Spirit.”



Monique writes short stories and blog posts for online publications and can be reached at

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