The Twenty-Five Year Silence

Shortlisted in Retreat West January Micro Fiction Competition, January 2021

Kayla Murphy is by the pears in Sainsburys.

I’m shaking, remembering my hands gripping her wrists.

The adrenaline, the soaring flight of the trapeze slicing the heat of the marquee.

Kayla’s glitter-face below me. 

Then cramping spasms in my calves, arms, hands, fingers.

She slipped from my grasp, the broken safety wire and screaming crowd.

Her brother guarding her hospital room, blocking me.

The crushing weight of guilt.

Kayla’s hands are still in mine, ghost limbs. I’ve been holding her for years.

My heart is hammering as I tap Kayla’s shoulder, then wait for her to speak.