A small boy plays in the falling snow. He tries to understand his broken life. He doesn't cry, but you might.
Shortlisted for the Fish Short Story Prize
He knows the words the lady says. But what does she mean? That’s where it all goes jiggly. Does she try to mix him up? He doesn’t think so. That would make her a bad person and he doesn’t think she’s bad. He doesn’t like her but Daddy does. And whatever else Daddy’s done he wouldn’t like a bad person, he’s sure of that.
He looks down at his new wellingtons. When he’d asked Mummy to buy him a pair she’d said she couldn’t yet, but his red ones were still very good. Red ones are for babies, he’d told Mummy. No, firemen wear red ones, she’d said. He didn’t think it was true – if he said that in the playground they’d likely laugh at him, the way they laughed at his red wellingtons. But he didn’t say anything to Mummy in case she got another worry.
And now this lady’s bought him a new pair. Shiny, green and yellow in the thick white snow. Snow Leopards she says they’re called. Snow Leopards?
He explores the crisp unbroken surface, deliberately places one foot then the other, swivels his head from side to side and listens carefully to the sound of his new boots...
Shortlisted for the Fish Short Story Prize
He knows the words the lady says. But what does she mean? That’s where it all goes jiggly. Does she try to mix him up? He doesn’t think so. That would make her a bad person and he doesn’t think she’s bad. He doesn’t like her but Daddy does. And whatever else Daddy’s done he wouldn’t like a bad person, he’s sure of that.
He looks down at his new wellingtons. When he’d asked Mummy to buy him a pair she’d said she couldn’t yet, but his red ones were still very good. Red ones are for babies, he’d told Mummy. No, firemen wear red ones, she’d said. He didn’t think it was true – if he said that in the playground they’d likely laugh at him, the way they laughed at his red wellingtons. But he didn’t say anything to Mummy in case she got another worry.
And now this lady’s bought him a new pair. Shiny, green and yellow in the thick white snow. Snow Leopards she says they’re called. Snow Leopards?
He explores the crisp unbroken surface, deliberately places one foot then the other, swivels his head from side to side and listens carefully to the sound of his new boots...