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Clare Fielder

T

oday you put on your dark jeans that cling to your figure and are stiff from the wash. Several minutes pass before you can really

bend your knees. Then you choose your long, light blue shirt that makes you look skinny because of the way it settles in the hollow spaces behind your collarbones, then skims your body and buttons up tight at the wrists. You smooth your hair over your forehead with the palms of your hands, like you are stroking a cat. You drink strong coffee and check your appearance only once in the hallway mirror before leaving the house. When you walk along the streets near where you live you say in your head, Be normal be normal be normal, but that doesn’t stop you counting the bricks in the walls. Counting. Your days are spent in the shadows of numbers and a desperation not to see things as coming in threes. On Tuesdays you go to see your therapist. This one’s not too bad because she doesn’t smile down at you like some of them do – the ones who insist on the power of positive thinking and affirmations. The last one told you to find God. She may or may not have had genuine qualifications. ÉCLAT FICTION

23

MAY 2012

Profile for Eclat Fiction

Éclat Fiction - Issue 3  

The third issue of Éclat Fiction (an online short story anthology). www.eclatfiction.com

Éclat Fiction - Issue 3  

The third issue of Éclat Fiction (an online short story anthology). www.eclatfiction.com

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