Short Story Preview: Inner City Blues
I placed the bomb gently into my backpack, the bright wires belying the destructive force that they would trigger. It was nearly time. I had one last look round the room, the air turning slowly to sludge as I tried to breathe away my fear, but it caught in my throat as my glance rested on the photograph of my wife and daughter. They were watching me, pleading with me not to go through with it, but I knew I had to. I turned my back on them to finalise my packing, trying to put their innocent smiles out of my mind, but I could feel their eyes staring at me. I turned and placed the picture face down on the bookshelf and, free from their stare, I quickly finished packing my bag and zipped it up.
What a wonderful word ‘zip’ is. ‘Zzzzzzzzzzzzz’ as the teeth close together and then a brief ‘puh’ as the sound fades. When you say the word, your mouth at first closes on the final sound of the ‘puh’ as if to say things have been closed, but then oddly the lips end slightly open as you say the almost inaudible ‘uh’, leaving things unfinished or perhaps creating a new opening somewhere.
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