The God of Rugs
by Nina Kiriki Hoffman
***Editor's Note: This is a story for adult readers***
My mother worshipped the god of rugs, which gave her peculiar powers, and gave me the conviction that I needed to find a god of my own.
"Well, Karen," Mom said, "so glad you finally decided to visit."
"You make it so inviting." I sat on the cabbage-rose printed couch, from which, to be fair, she had recently vacuumed the pet hair. Today's air freshener scent was a cloying version of patchouli. Mom's favorite Persian rug had a grip around both my ankles. I knew if I didn't tread carefully, I'd be stuck in Mom's living room for hours--maybe overnight, if she was feeling mean or her dementia kicked in.