Prompt:
something such as laundry, dishes, a mundane task.

They sit in silent rebuke, telling anyone who will listen of my secret shame.
I didn’t do my dishes last night. Or the morning since. Or the lunch. They don’t blame me, but still, they silently scream neglect, if not abuse.
Just saying it aloud in my head unleashes a fast-running, familiar river of invective.
“A clean house says all that can be said of you,” my mother floats by, face averted.
“It’s just slovenly,” says Tia, boldly staring me down as she dogpaddles up to me and then lets the stream carry her away.
“Germs!” shouts Stevie, my old co-worker from the Department of Health. “Hepatitis C!” he calls back over his shoulder, but he always said that.
“First impressions…” says my least favorite sister, sitting serenly, almost royally, aboard her pristine canoe, picking lint off the front of her sweater, not making eye contact.
“Me, too!” calls out my most favorite sister from her kayak. “Hope you had fun!” She circles before she hurries off downstream.
I wend my way to the headgate to shut off their water.
I did have fun. I started off making a batch of cherry jam from a secret recipe known only to me and my best friend Mary Rose, MR for short. What with my ex stopping by, I didn’t get any further than pitting a mound of cherries with my hands–messy work. What with one thing leading to another, he left with my cherry prints on his backside, for all the world to see, unbeknownst to him.
Then I had to think about what I’d done.
What is an ex, anyway?
Maybe he’s an unwashed dish. Apparently I’m still finding some kind of nourishment on him. Maybe it’s me those river floaters are talking about.
I stand up from my kitchen table and walk over to the sink. I pull the dishes out of the sink, one by one, piling plates and bowls and mugs into one coherent stack. I pick up the stack in both hands and take it out the screen door, down the steps, to the concrete slab that serves as patio. I stand a moment, between picnic table and barbecue grill, breath calming. Then I let my hands drop.