mon petit chou

Anito by Mitch Alcantara

It's a French phrase. A term of endearment. Literally, my little cabbage. When did I become aware of it? Likely in high school French class. It's a fun phrase the way it feels it the mouth, blending the last two words together so that it sounds like you're saying mon petty shoe.

A piece of flash fiction emerged from me sometime after reading the brilliant Naomi Shihab Nye poem The Art Disappearing.

And then, I sent it to Redivider, the literary magazine from Emerson College. And now, here it is for you, mon petit chou.