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Shit Talk and Bad Luck

KJ Nakazawa-Kern | Flash Fiction

This paragraph is not about how I keep having the same dream where I’m trying to drive a car from the backseat and can’t reach the wheel or the pedals. But there is something my great aunt, who I never met, said to my grandma. I don’t know if this conversation happened at a family get-together or town meeting or what. One of my great aunt’s daughters died young of cancer, leukemia, and she said to my grandma, her sister-in-law: I hope all your daughters get cancer and die. My grandma got leukemia herself and died in 2007 and before that buried three of her daughters in the 90s. My mom has one sister left and they are both survivors (breast and colon). My mom’s one brother is still alive and has never had cancer but was recently diagnosed with dementia and keeps sending the same YouTube video of Sarah Palin (her Mama Grizzly speech) to the family group text. No one responds. The video was posted seven years ago and only has 1.4k views, zero comments. One theory is all the health problems can be explained by the insecticides they were exposed to working on the farm. My great aunt said something we wish she didn’t and then it mostly came true, but we don’t have to classify that as magic. There is research to be done yet. I’m still missing a lot of the details. I haven’t asked the right questions at the right times and this paragraph is actually about how when I meet my mom at the Cherry Blossom Noodle Cafe for lunch and she hugs me goodbye in the parking lot, right before we both get into our cars, she says: You just never know.