Sue Shampoo. Sue Hullaballoo. Sue Dancing Shoes. Sue Too. Sue Phew.
I park the perambulator and lift the rain shield: "Sue Chew! " she says.
Her round puffy cheeks are smudged with orange maize.
Irresistible.
I kiss her.
One.Two.
On each cheek and feel the sticky residue cling to me. I flick my tongue over my lips: "Mmmm!" I say before the flavour is replaced with a chemical aftertaste.
Presentable again with a wet wipe polish.
Children run over artificial turf. She joins them in the exercise area. I watch her struggle to keep up.
She is breathless. She is not a carbon copy. Replicated not duplicated. Expect some blurring.
But I love her, just the same.
Her hair not as yellow, her eyes not as blue. Sue Two.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Save the Date! The 2021 FlashFlood submission window is open from 2 - 8 May....
The next FlashFlood will take place National Flash-Fiction Day 's 10th Anniversary, next mass-writing event taking place on 26 June 202...

-
We'd like to mark the end of 2020 with a little celebration of this year's FlashFlood writers. Congratulations to the following wri...
-
How’d you do it, girl? Waitressing part-time at Steak ‘n’ Shake since the day after your sixteenth birthday, working weekends through high s...
-
A shaft of sunlight fell across the worn herringbone floor, drawing his gaze upwards to the flawless blue sky beyond the row of windows, ...

No comments:
Post a comment