Saturday, 22 June 2013
'Touch wood' by Paula McGuire
‘I’m a little busy here,’ she grumbled, distractedly. ‘Please,’ he appealed, ‘touch wood’. Sigh. ‘I’m
not superstitious.’ ‘Neither am I,’ he
reminded, pushing the well-handled clothes peg towards her tensed fingers, ‘just
this once’. One cracked nail grazed the bleached
timber: a perfunctory gesture. Later, as
they whipped the newborn urgently from the muggy room, she grabbed up the
discarded peg. His hand clamped around
hers, forcing the wood deep into her palm.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
FlashFloods 2022 Best Small Fictions Nominations
We are thrilled to announce our 2022 Best Small Fictions nominations: A girl by Melissa Llanes Brownlee Detached by Anika Carpenter ...
-
One day the planet tilted just ever so slightly to the left and everyone and everything I’d ever known in between fell off. It wasn’t easy t...
-
A shaft of sunlight fell across the worn herringbone floor, drawing his gaze upwards to the flawless blue sky beyond the row of windows, ...
-
A girl sits, waiting. She reaches above her head for a girl. A girl to pluck from the tree of girls. The tree is full and ripe, the perfect ...
No comments:
Post a Comment