Villainous Motorcycle

Posted: August 9, 2013 in Uncategorized

She slept, long and fitfully, while her mother sat quietly in the living room. She watched the television with the audio muted and closed captioning displayed, winced as the newspaper was thrown against the front door and then read it all, gingerly turning the pages so that they moved as silently as possible. She stared out the window at even the slightest noise, ensuring that she could get to the door before whatever it could be had a chance to ring the loud doorbell and stir the dreamer. If a faucet was opened, or a kettle heated, or a toilet was flushed, it was done so carefully, and only after much deliberation, designed to be completed at a time that would be unlikely to intrude on the silence thick yet delicate throughout the home. Her daughter was too old for baby monitors, too young to be left alone while she visited friends or ran errands, and besides, she had to be near her sick child hot with fever. This urge almost worked against her, wanting to bring her soup and medicine when she did not need but rest. The game carried on for hours, the players becoming more daring as time elapsed, each daring to let her opponent win.


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