three women in a box on a shelf

three women in a box on a shelf

fiction
edward w pritchard

I keep three women in a box on a shelf and each wears a high hat characteristic of her type. Less a box for storing things but a box of location, like private seats in the bleachers at a stadium such as at  the ancient Roman coliseum is where the three ladies stay and it's always night where they are.

All are eternally silent and the hats are more intriguing than the faces. The names are loneliness, betrayal and death.

Sometimes I rush about to follow my bliss but the three women in the hats are always whispering to me in psychic babble even through they never say anything.

Once I asked one of the three ladies to remove her hat but each merely smiled in concert.