My four-year-old son was out of control. He tried to climb EVERYTHING, he made crazy yelling noises all the time, he had about a ten-word vocabulary, and he slipped out of his room every night to sleep with his pet jungle cats.
And it was all his grandpa's fault.
I should have seen it coming the day my son was born. I held him in my arms, showed him to my father-in-law, and said, "Hey, Dad, ain'tcha proud?" And he just twinkled his eyes at me, and ran his hand through his dreadlocks, and grunted bemusedly to himself.
I should...
One left, one right. Two by two, on and on, ad infinitum.
No one has ever had any doubt about Johnny's prowess. The man has a fucking PhD in horticulture, and all without a day of instruction or a minute of in-class study. A natural, they said.
The trick was in the wrist. A little dip-and-flick, and they soar into the dirt with just enough force.
A master seeds-man, with few adversaries.
Damn 'munks don't know how to take a hint.
Bury them he did, but sometimes the little cretins would stumble upon the treasure troves and gobble the pre-germinated...
'Vanquished. V-A-N-Q-U-I-S-H-E-D. Vanquished." Poppy smiled, proudly, scanning the audience for her parents. There was her mother, beaming at her. Camera in hand, ready to capture every last moment of the Spelling Bee. Her mother was so embarassing, thought Poppy, but at least she cared. Her eyes flickered across the room, until they settled on her father. As usual, he was standing at the back, his eyes glued ot his Blackberry. Typical. at least he was here, usually he missed every dance competition, every spelling Bee, every sports day. He wasn;t really there, though. His body might be standing there, but...
She could tell I was faking it. She can always tell when I'm faking it. Something about the way my eyelids droop slightly, the way I chew at my bottom lip before I talk.
"It looks lovely."
"It doesn't. You're lying." Somehow, she always knows.
"Okay, it doesn't. It's a hideous dress. But you do. You always look lovely."
"Creep." She smiles, and swats at me with the scarf she's about to wrap around her shoulders instead of a coat.
I love the way she looks when she gets ready. How she frowns at the mirror when she puts on...
I was not going to give him the satisfaction of see me cry. I wasn’t going to beg or cry. Somehow, a blindfold was better. This routine of binding and blindfolding me before torturing me had been going on for days...maybe even weeks. It was best that I didn’t see what was coming. I didn’t want to look at him either and I didn’t want him to see the tears or fear in my eyes.
And he was at it again. The kicks and punches....it was almost like clockwork. I switched off completely. There was no point in screaming and...
The day had dragged on. Lari looked around the street as she left work. She felt as if she had just ran a marathon with cement shoes on. You wouldn't think that being a marketing assistant would make someone so tired.
The street was full of the regular faces. People that she saw everyday, but never really looked at. Lari sighed as she waited for her bus. I need a vacation, she thought.
A young girl walked by, licking a dripping ice cream cone and holding a large red balloon. The girl didn't care that she had dripped chocolate down...
In the little house, Brigid waited for the big lady to leave. She wanted peace, and the special sound of wind when no one was around. Kneeling people interrupted the woosh of air that made her forgetful. Kneeling people made her remember everything about praying and wanting things outside her little house. This was a House for Not Praying, for Not Wanting. But all these big people came. A miracle had happened here and she couldn't get rid of them. The gravel she laid out specially over what had been soft grass cut into their old knees and young knees...
The gate closed behind them. No one knew what was in store for them. There was a collective sigh as people resignedly turned their heads this way and that, trying to get their bearings. All the panic and fear and questions had been exhausted on the two hour train ride to this place. Sam wasn't sure what "this place" was but he knew it was no good. He heard chains being wound on the outside of the door. Definitely no good. He heard a padlock click into place.
They'd all been rounded up the night before. Some snatched from beds,...
I'm fine
No really.
Really really!
I'm not being aggressive.
NO, I'm NOT!
I am NOT shouting.
I'm perfectly Ok. O… K…
I'm Fiiiiiinnnnneeee.
Yes
Yes
No, it's not…
No
NO!
Look. I'm fine, Oh…Kay! It's all good. Absolutely great.
Best ever. Brilliant. Bendi (bloody) gedig!
No, I'm not swearing now. That's Welsh.
No not the middle.
Yes, I know 'bloody' is a swear word. Oh God!
I am really, Really, REALLY Ok.
Yes.
Yes , really.
Yes, he was. I know that now
…
Ok… maybe I'm not…
Light.
Fuck light, right? Right.
Light just shows what I don't want to share, it takes away my CHOICE. Isn't that abusive or some such touchy-feely bullshit?
"Teacher? Light is taking away my choice!"
Yeah well, "teacher" would just tell me to STFU so...
Thing is...think is I, well, I crave it, yk? I crave it. I crave the light like I crave sugar or coffee (not caffeine - there's a difference).
Damn thing. Always seems to fling a little clarity at exactly what I've hidden so carefully away. I take care with my secrets hide them good. Keep them...