Snippet of WIP: “Killingbeck Gran”

Mum opens the driver’s door and the passenger doors begin to close. They whir quiet like my inside voice and I always like the way they never are loud but are always making sound. What is the sound?

“What is the sound?”

“What sound, honey,” Mum says, looking back in the rearview mirror as she fastens her seatbelt.

“The sound from the door,” I say. This whole time we are moving and the trees blur past us as we head to Killingbeck and I remember why I don’t want to go.

“It’s just the door closing,” Mum says. She pulls down the driver side mirror and checks her makeup. She looks fine. I tell her that sometimes and she starts to cry. She doesn’t say thank you. Like when I turn out the light sometimes before bed. I wake up and the light is on.

“Wow,” I say. I think I say that a lot. Everything is “wow” and everything wows me. Maybe I wow. Maybe I can wow Gran. I don’t think so.

Mum plays with the dashboard GPS and clicks “Favourites”. Only one place-thingy pops up, and she raps her middle finger on its place. “Killingbeck Hospital”. Where we are going to see crazy Gran who likes sneakerlaces. We are not much alike, if she likes them. I don’t.


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