adventures of the travelling ham.

we read this story in our creative fiction class, as a part of our "micro-fiction" section.
needless to say, i loved it!

oh, the magic of the the last line.
:)

"The New Year"
By Pamela Painter

"It's late Christmas Eve at Spinelli's when Dominic presents us, the waitstaff, with his dumb idea of a bonus- Italian hams in casings so tight they shimmer like Gilda's gold lame stockings.

At home, Gilda's waiting up for me with a surprise of her own: my stuff from the last three months is sitting on the stoop. Arms crossed, scarlet nails tapping the satin sleeves of her robe, she says she's heard about Fiona.

I balance the ham on my hip and pack my things- CD's, weights, a vintage Polaroid- into garbage bags she's provided free of charge. Then I let it all drop and offer up the ham in both hands, cradling it as if it might have been our child. She doesn't want any explanations- or the ham.

Fiona belongs to Dominic, and we are a short sad story of one night's restaurant despair. But the story's out and for sure I don't want Dominic coming after my ham.

Under Gilda's unforgiving eye, I sling my garbage bags into the trunk of the car and head west. The ham glistens beside me in the passenger's seat. Somewhere in Indiana I strap it into a seat belt.

I stop to call, but Gilda hangs up every time. So I send her pictures of my trip instead: The Ham under the silver arch of St. Louis; The Ham at the Grand Canyon; The Ham in Las Vegas.

I'm taking a picture of The Ham in the Pacific when a big wave washes it out to sea. I send the picture anyway: The Ham in the Pacific Undertow.

In this picture, you can't tell which of us is missing."