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...o find me; I am sterile and contagious and thoroughly examined. I can’t bear to see Al’s face, can’t meet his eyes. My mother won’t be long; it took ages to persuade her to leave me, that I’d be fine for ten minutes. Knickers and purse, that’s all I’ll need, knickers and bag – no time for notes. Take the phone and call them, Oh God, please don’t let them worry but I just can’t stand this anymore.

…and I’m flying for the train station, running with saliva mounting in my mouth, making me want to heave but I won’t stop, I won’t stay, I won’t cry. There’s a train roaring across the bridge.

Mother Brings Milk For The Tea

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Author Guidance for this Story

ireneintheworld There are several distinct threads in this story; the husband's, the mother's and the wife's - all with different past and future possibilities. I would love to see people write the other points of view, and continue on from Dysphemism's great slant.

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