Reblog: Frosted Glass

[potofsoup]

via falena: Frosted Glass, a short story.

Mrs. Mendez fumed. She watched the lights go on at the neighbor’s house. The Mendezes had installed the trendiest windows they could find—frosted glass, cut into identical squares. They could see out, but anyone looking in would see just blobs and shapes. They’d see silhouettes moving in and out of shadows like creatures stretching and curling into their caves. This is why Mrs. Mendez had busted her back for twenty-five years. This is why she had arrived with her one suitcase and cleaned homes for so many years while taking classes at the community college where all her teachers assumed by her accent she understood nothing. Why she’d studied accounting with an English-to-Spanish dictionary at her side and spent years working her way up a ladder full of splinters and snapped legs at every turn. So she could have goddamn frosted glass spy windows she could see out of but nobody could see into.

Definitely worth a read, although I'm not quite sure how I feel about the ending. Or the way some of Mrs. Mendez' frustrations are portrayed as not valid (um, put the trash lid back on, and maybe have a conversation with your mom about why you want a more Americanized name?)