Dr Williams soaped his hands under water. Important to keep them clean, he thought. For me more than anything. He watched the suds spill into the sink, twirling in clean white loops, neatly gurgling, almost comforting. At last, he withdrew; hands blue and sparkling from the cold.
Continue reading “Clean hands by Otto Alexander”
When Hartmann asked for a cigarette the two guards sitting with him turned away. He laughed. “What the hell, you worryin’ about my health … today?” He kept his eyes on them, craning his neck just a bit, toying with them. He’d promised himself no fireworks. Nothing physical. Be a man. He’d always been a man … when he was eight, getting beat up by bullies … when he was twelve, getting slapped around by one of his mother’s boyfriends … when he was sixteen, getting punched by the guy who said he was his father. Why didn’t he get praise for being a man?
“Where’s Moody?” he asked.
Continue reading “Family and Friends by Victor Kreuiter”
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