“Anything” by Tracy Royce

“Anything” by Tracy Royce is a masterpiece of mood. The speaker of the prose poem begins “gloomy again” but ends, via a city bike ride, in an entirely new and revelatory headspace. Royce integrates spirited interiority with speculative exteriority to portray this transformation.  —Court Harler

Gloomy again. Thunder rumbles and I wonder what possessed me to bike here. I sidle up to the window, read the whiteboard menu, and order today’s special, thinking there’s nothing so special about an everything bagel, but fine. The guy with the maybe-ironic mullet taps the whiteboard, which I reread. Huh. “What’s an ‘anything bagel’?” He shrugs and says, “We only have one, it’s yours if you want it.” I pay and retrieve the crisp paper bag, peek inside. Looks like an ordinary bagel with a smattering of poppy seeds. Of course. I toss it in my bike basket as the drizzle begins, a polka-dot pattern blooming on the bag as it absorbs the raindrops. I’m going to have a soggy special if I don’t hurry, so I pedal fast and scan for lane-changers. Registering movement, I glance at my basket in time to see the bag shift. Out sprouts a stem, shooting skyward, and the petals of an orange poppy unfold bright against the clouds. I’m trying to concentrate on the road, the cars, but now the truck beside me is slowing, the driver pointing at—Shit! I stop just in time as the signal turns red and cross traffic floods the intersection. Drivers and passengers gawk as my poppy’s petals rapidly expand. More thunder, and now I’m watching the rain pelt the vehicles around me, wipers swiping at the deluge. But I’m dry. Dry and smiling beneath this brilliant orange umbrella.

TRACY ROYCE is a writer and poet with work appearing in 100 Word Story, The Mackinaw, ONE ART, and Best Microfiction 2026. Her work has been nominated for Best Small Fictions and a Pushcart Prize. She lives in Southern California, where she enjoys hiking. Find her on Bluesky @tracyroyce.bsky.social.

Featured image by melanie boers, courtesy of Unsplash.