Page 51

Crosses By Athena Taylor

[Bonnie] The hospital was blinking white and harsh, open spaces. It made strange noises and vibrated with an underground hum. Click-clack of heels and the shuffling of slippers and ungreased wheels herded anxious whisperers into corners where they huddled like lost sheep. The smell of death was everywhere. Bonnie had been sitting on a wooden bench for over two hours. She was waiting for the nurse. In her hands she held a handkerchief, pink with blue flowers. It was spotted with blood from biting her fingernails. She had risen earlier than normal that morning, restless after a poor night’s sleep. Splashed her face and put on water for a coffee. Jake her sometimes-boyfriend lay face down on the bed, snoring. He had stumbled home just before dawn, stinking of girls’ perfume and casual sex. For a while she wandered aimlessly around their small, colourless apartment. It was messy, that was nothing new, and she lacked the energy to restore a cleanliness she didn’t feel. Dirty dishes and scrappy bits of paper floated on the living room floor, tangled cords and dust on everything. Bonnie stared at it all and needed to get away. Outside it was a crisp, cool day. The sky threatened rain but she didn’t worry. Her neighbour in the block of units sat in a deckchair on his tiny square of lawn, twiddling his thumbs. He was an old man and Irish and loved to reminisce about his time as a fighter 49

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On Dit Edition 81.8 - Hearsay  

Hearsay: On Dit's creative writing edition.

On Dit Edition 81.8 - Hearsay  

Hearsay: On Dit's creative writing edition.

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