Sticks and Stones and Rising Voices
five
The house was quiet.
Squawking gulls circled overhead, calling out to the lapping waters down the street. The sun beat down on the town. People lounged on the white sands of the beach, drowning themselves in heat and aloe and salt.
The clock in the kitchen hitched with every second. It was counting down the moments.
She lay on the floor with her hot skin pushed to the cool tile. Her salt streaked cheeks wanted nothing more than to be soothed. Her clammy palms stuck to the tiles. She heaved a lone sob.
She could feel the sickness rising in her throat.
Her stomach emptied itself.
She had no strength to move.
The sun was high in the sky, shining right through the skylight and into the kitchen. The gulls circled above, casting shadows across her sweaty face.
She could hear Ewan's car pull into the driveway. She could hear the car door slam and the jingle of his house keys as he opened the front door. The knocking of his worn shoes as he crossed the wooden floor. She saw his feet from under the table.
Squawking gulls circled overhead, calling out to the lapping waters down the street. The sun beat down on the town. People lounged on the white sands of the beach, drowning themselves in heat and aloe and salt.
The clock in the kitchen hitched with every second. It was counting down the moments.
She lay on the floor with her hot skin pushed to the cool tile. Her salt streaked cheeks wanted nothing more than to be soothed. Her clammy palms stuck to the tiles. She heaved a lone sob.
She could feel the sickness rising in her throat.
Her stomach emptied itself.
She had no strength to move.
The sun was high in the sky, shining right through the skylight and into the kitchen. The gulls circled above, casting shadows across her sweaty face.
She could hear Ewan's car pull into the driveway. She could hear the car door slam and the jingle of his house keys as he opened the front door. The knocking of his worn shoes as he crossed the wooden floor. She saw his feet from under the table.