UNNATURAL
Snap, goes the thread. In an instant, you’re reeling: coal rushing down the shoot, a whirligig, a spiralling sycamore seed. It was the brass fire-dog in the nursery hearth – or, what does Evanora call it? The andiron? Whatever its name it’s the thing that sees you off, ruins you with its hard finial spear.
Unstuck in time, the ghost of a once-defiant nursemaid revisits the night she felt most alive, when she dared to seize a creative freedom meant only for the privileged.
4000 words
ၴႅၴ Long listed for New2theScene