roll and toothbrushes and numerous gadgets of all shapes and sizes and brands that made up a successful home. The vomit seemed to colour the whole thing with splashes of pressure, as if something might burst. Replicas of paintings they had admired together rolled in on themselves and became pieces of it. David kept his eyes fixed on her and she looked again and saw important documents that you could tell were important because they said IMPORTANT on them in fat red letters. Debts and money ended in the same way as toys kept in storage for their friend’s children. Life laughed out from the mess and thoughts of avalanches taking people effortlessly from sun-bright mountaintops slid across as the morning light began to reach in through the bare windows. Sarah looked at all this and felt perfectly sane and happy, her stomach clear and hollow again, the watery nausea gone down the sink. “How about a fire?” she said, pouring out the last of the whiskey into her glass.
The third issue of Éclat Fiction (an online short story anthology). www.eclatfiction.com