Copy Room_Block 66_Dancing in the Wind_Another Hand
Catalog Guide:
Copy Room
Advisory: sexual advances; swearingStacy sat at her desk, thinking what to do. She had set herself an ultimatum: if it happened again, she would quit.It had happened again.To most, it might seem innocent, the occasional brushing past her when she was sandwiched between the counter and the photocopier where there was minimal room and he just had to get through, groin against buttock, his against hers. Sometimes he had to reach for something on the shelf above at the same time, leaving her to lean forward just a little but enough for her rear to protrude that little bit more.Everyone said that t...
Block 66
The last box in the room was the old noodles carton, eaten up by mites and whatnot. She sighed and shuffled across the room. Squatting in front of the box, her knees gave a loud crack. She sighed. Picked the box up. Walked back to the table. Dropped it. Musty dust rose to her face. She coughed and swiped at it. Useless. She kept coughing. The books in there. Too old. Decades old. A Selection of African Poetry. West African Verse. Chinua Achebe's 'Anthills of the Savannah'. Hammer on the Cock, with the author's name neatly eaten ofwww.onedoor.ccf. Charles Dickens' 'Oliver Twist'. She stopped coughing. A...
Dancing in the Wind
My fingers are silky, my hand cradles a lustrous photo. Emerging from a yellowed sheathe, it rocks in my palm, refracting the glints of the bedside lamp this way and that. Amidst the disarray of my thoughts and feelings, a draught flips the picture over to its velvety white side where the penmanship is a marvel.“Will you ever forgive without anger?Will you ever forget without hatred?Will you ever call me Noodle Girl?”How did she know? Did I sigh it, my eyes shut tight? Did I blurt it out, cast from the depths of my heart? She must’ve known, for she'd unbind her ponytail and approach with her l...
Another Hand
Another HandAfter they both ordered salads, John crossed his arms, tucked his hands behind his biceps, and leaned back. He wanted to hear Bob talk his way out of this. Dawn, his wife, was worse. John was hurt by Dawn, and tired of Bob preaching patience. Results are what he wanted. He didn’t like being vindictive, but he was ready to remove Dawn or send her to Memory Care. John was paying the money, so he didn’t mind seeing Bob squirm.“You had some concerns when you called?” Bob said. “I do. Every time I’m here, Dawn is hanging onto that Paul guy,” John said. “She never smiles at me. She doesn...