Micro Mint Dental Floss Picks With Travel Case 12 Count

Description: The Flossers The night had settled deep over the small house, the quiet of it folding in like a second skin. Yvonne sat at the kitchen table, her fingers turning over the small plastic case in her hand. It was nothing special—just a travel case, filled with twelve Plackers Micro Mint Dental Floss Picks, the kind of thing people picked up at the drugstore, tossed in a cart without thinking. But to Yvonne, it was something else entirely. Something about those tiny picks, their minty smell seeping through the case, brought her back to a time when her mother would sit her down after supper, a toothpick in her own mouth, leaning in close to tell her about the things that got stuck, the things that never came loose unless you worked for it. "Baby, you gotta work at it," her mother would say, tapping her teeth with the side of the pick. "All that stuff you think don't matter, it'll stay right there until it rots you out, if you don't clean it." It wasn’t just about food or plaque or gums. Yvonne knew that now, even if she hadn’t then. She opened the case, her fingers brushing against the cool plastic of the picks. They were designed not to break, not to shred. Super Tuffloss, they called it. She smiled a little at the name. Super tough. It sounded like something her brother Raymond would have said, back when they were kids, back when they used to race each other down the street, daring one another to do things neither of them was brave enough to do alone. Raymond had always been tough, real tough, like the kind of tough that never bent, never snapped, not even when life tried to pull him apart. But she hadn’t seen Raymond in years. There were things between them that had gotten stuck—wedged deep, like the things her mother had warned her about, things that had never been cleaned out. The minty smell of the picks rose up, crisp and clean, filling the air. Yvonne closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself breathe it in. It reminded her of cold mornings, the kind where the air hit the back of your throat, making you feel like everything inside was being swept clean, stripped bare. She could almost feel her mother's hands, strong and steady, pushing the hair back from her face, telling her to stand up straight, telling her not to let anything sit inside her too long. Her mother had always been like that. Tough like Raymond, but quieter, the kind of tough that came from watching things fall apart and still managing to hold yourself together. Yvonne hadn’t realized how much of that she’d learned, just from being there, from watching the way her mother’s hands moved, the way she could make something clean, something whole, out of something broken. Yvonne took one of the picks from the case, rolling it between her fingers. The world’s strongest floss, they said. It slid between teeth easy, getting at the things that sat in the corners, the things you didn’t even know were still there, until they started to hurt. She slid it between her teeth, feeling the tension of it, the way it worked, pulling things free that she hadn’t even realized were lodged deep. There was something about the simple act of cleaning, of scraping away what didn’t belong, that made her feel lighter, cleaner. She thought about calling Raymond, but her hand didn’t reach for the phone. Not yet. Some things had to be worked at, slowly, like the way you loosen something stuck between your teeth—gentle at first, so it doesn’t snap, so you don’t break what’s holding it all together. The pick moved easily, the minty flavor filling her mouth, cool and sharp, like fresh air in winter. Yvonne looked at the case again, small and simple, the kind of thing you could carry with you anywhere. A way to keep clean, to make sure things didn’t stick. A way to move forward, without carrying too much of the past with you. She finished, snapping the pick into the trash with a soft flick of her wrist. The night was still quiet, but it didn’t feel heavy anymore. Yvonne leaned back in her chair, looking out the window, thinking maybe she’d call Raymond tomorrow. Maybe it was time to start cleaning up what had been left too long. The world was full of small things, things that got stuck between people, between families, between the past and the present. But maybe, just maybe, there were ways to work at it, to pull it free, to let it all be washed away with the fresh taste of something new.

Price: 1.59 USD

Location: Humble, Texas

End Time: 2024-11-07T05:49:20.000Z

Shipping Cost: N/A USD