MONO ISSUE 2 - Flipbook - Page 92
imagine making my waving from square windows an art form and I’ll want everything for
him until he dies in the next room. On the drive our daughter is named everything —
Everything is learning to ride my old bike, winning her imaginary race, all the way up the
big hill in the metal dark she’s doing ever so well. I make her blackberries in a pie the
colour of drying scabs —
the diner is closing —
on the way to the toilet rockstars guitars sit next to golden bras — the toilet roll sticks to
the ceiling like a chalk so you have to make a wish before it dissolves or falls down. I
wish I wish I wish. I tuck my arm over the side of the lid and imagine I am posing for my
sweetheart across the table again — imagine I am Juliet dying on the church step —
pulling at my insides in the name of love —
I am so hungry —
I just wish we had more time.
He doesn’t look up from his mixed grill even when our song is playing.
Somewhere a little girl is on a beach, running with her arms out — her favourite place
she’s ever been — falling for her feet as unique as starfish, ushering the jelly fish away
with her doughy hands.
1st prize winner of the SCARS Short Story competition judged by Amanthi Harris.
87
