Ravenous, we split them open. They lie naked, exposed. They’ve already been ripped off the branch, then tortured by burning, finally brown bagged. Greedily we devour them. Pete and me, warming our hands first. We tongue test the heat of their crunchy guts. We’re laughing, together. Pete can’t resist, he chucks one at me. It catches my cheek. Makes the hidden bruise there flare. I wince, but giggle, as I return his fire. I didn’t expect a bull’s eye. Not at my first attempt. I got him in one, on his left temple. He went down hard, with a look of surprise on his face. Blood trickles into his eye. He does not blink. He was lucky. I always knew what was coming. Just never always knew the when. I sob and say to anyone who’ll listen, ‘It was just a silly game. That’s all.’
Chestnuts for my Sweet
by Alyson Faye
3 responses to “Chestnuts for my Sweet”
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Wonderfully written. I felt the chestnut, leaving her hands, the fading bruises of a woman beaten and yet alive enough to take advantage of the moment. The shock of love and romance turning to violence, the clever use of language and pace to build up an everyday situation and to quickly turn it on its head – very skilled. I liked this a great deal. Hope to read more from this author.
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All human emotion in a dozen lines. Brilliant!