Crème de Menthe

Under the table, I sip Christmas-bulb-green liquid from a sparkling chalice being passed around with giggles and hushes. The taste shocks my throat like I swallowed electricity. It burns and expands like a blanket, warm and comforting. I look at my cousins: wild, grinning faces and huddled knees moving in slow motion, like we’re under water. The crystal glass in the center of our circle glows with power. I drain the last drop of melted emerald and the jolt on my tongue zaps me with the sacred truth of the moment: I am here with them. I belong.

Published by Five Minutes Lit, April 28, 2025