by Matthew Roy Davey
Maddog 20/20 ( Kiwi and Lime)
The bell rang and Miss Monroe told us to get our coats from the hall. Mine wasn’t on my butterfly hook and even after everyone else had taken theirs I couldn’t see it. Miss Monroe came and helped. Someone had shoved it under the bench. Miss Monroe helped me put it on. She was much nicer than my last teacher. Mrs Foster had funny green eyes that made me feel strange when I looked at her. Miss Monroe was much nicer. She held my hand as we walked outside and down the path to the gate. It was cold and icy. Mums and dads were waiting, hugging their children and taking them home. Except mine. She was always late. I’d only been at the school four days and she’d never been on time.
“Can you see Mummy?” asked Miss Monroe. The cold was making my eyes watery. I shook my head.
Time went by and most of the parents and children had gone. Miss Monroe’s hand was warm but my other hand was cold. Soon it was just us.
“Shall we go back inside?”
Just then Mum arrived. She grabbed my hand and walked off really fast. I had to run to keep up.
“Bye Jake,” Miss Monroe called. “See you tomorrow.”
I didn’t have breath to reply.
Mum put me in the car and drove away. I put the seat belt on myself. I wondered if I wished hard enough maybe Miss Monroe could be my mum.
About the author
Matthew Roy Davey has won the Dark Tales and The Observer short story competitions. He has been long-listed for the Bath Flash Fiction award, Reflex Flash Fiction competition, Retreat West Quarterly competition and was recently nominated for the Pushcart Prize. He lives in Bristol, England and has no hobbies.