Chelsea Walker

Chrysalis

Chelsea sat on the worn carpet of the master bedroom, a smooth drumstick in her hand. Years of traffic had matted the beige surface to little, scratchy nubs beneath her bare legs. Afternoon light filtered in through the open blinds. She sat cross legged with her children around her. Ashton, seventeen, with his jaw length hair, parted in the middle, patted a drum beat on the practice pad that lay on the floor between them. Chloe and Stella, fourteen and ten, respectively, also banged on the black, octagonal surface with long sticks.