'Cutting Teeth' by Natalia Rolleston

‘’Blow into the bag slowly,’’ the stern woman with stiff auburn curls instructed. Her eyebrows told a different story. Disappointment had crept up on her and hardened her features over the years, as the bitterness had become lodged deep within her soul.

The older woman’s heartbeat, pulse and blood pressure returned to normal. Panic over. He was gone. The man who had grabbed her ankles from beneath the car had been there. The shock of it lingered. Replay. The purse hit the floor and disappeared as quietly and as quickly as the two hands had shot out from underneath the car.

She fell to the floor. Cold sweat had collected above her top lip - in a fractured second. The breath stolen from her lungs.

‘’Ma’am. What exactly was in the bag? I need to know for the report….Look I need to file this thing and get to my next job. I don’t mean to be rude. But it’s a homicide, so they really need me there.’’

Time stopped. Dry mouth. Pulse definitely still racing. Heart in chest, apparently no longer pounding.

‘’Lipstick, cell phone, bank cards, a tiny Halcyon Days music box and my husband’s teeth.’’

She pushed out the words as raspberry compote might push through muslin. Concentrated. Smooth. With a uniform consistency.

She drew her shoulders up, thanked the officer, pointed her torso in a westerly direction and hoped she would remember which one was her car, and that the keys were still nestled high above the left rear wheel.

It was white. Definitely white. Like her husband’s teeth had once been.