‘When we’re secure.’ The knot’s too tight.
A bright red double decker hisses, honks to a stop. The
top’s missing, full of tourists. Here is
the church, here the steeple. Look
inside. Hunter stops tugging at his tie, gives me his dog carried from the
battlefield look. ‘We’ve only been here a month, another, few, we’ll be set.’
He pulls the curtain.
‘I’m late.’
‘Me too. Don’t make dinner.’ The door doesn’t bang.
*
Hunter’s
back when the street’s quiet. He hands me a bag, flicks the light on.
‘Art & Antiques,’ cover, Paperweight, 1987, Beverly Hallam: blue and silver glass the size
of a tennis ball, plus a vase of white flowers holding down shadows of blinds
guillotined by sunlight. I drop it on the bedside.
*
‘Let me.’ Hunter takes the sheets. ‘Cheer up – look on
the table.’
It’s the wrong colour and the light goes right through
it.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
June is National Flash Fiction Month for New Zealand. This piece is for the Aotearoa Affair Blog Carnival's celebration of flash fiction: Across Borders. Thanks to Dorothee Lang and Michelle Elvy for including it.
3 comments:
Thank you, Parrish. I love all kinds of stories and love writing all varieties and wouldn't want to have to choose tiny ones over longer pieces but I do like to come across one that asks me to ponder a little longer than usual now and again. I'm thrilled this one enthralled you - couldn't wish for more than that.
It's very interesting how you can be so comfortable with so many genres. I think it is the mark of a very serious writer to explore so many forms. I'll always be amazed by how you do it all, Rachel.
I think "explore" is the key word, Lori - I'm quite a simple creature really - I follow what I find of interest and seem to have travelled a fair bit. Critics would say it shows a lack of focus but I like to think it just shows interest in many things - that is good for a writer I believe.
You're always so supportive - I'm grateful.
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