VisDare 79


Jonny stuck his fingers through the hole in the curtains and pulled. The threads were tough when they stuck together, but when he could get one by itself, he could work at it until it began to part beneath the pressure. That was the part he liked the best, feeling the fibers give, knowing that something that someone had worked so hard to put together was irreparably damaged. There was no fixing a silk curtain, he knew. Grandma had told him that many a time. She didn’t know that it just encouraged him. Jonny’s acting out – as she termed it – frustrated her, and she’d tried everything, from soap in his mouth to a strapping from cousin Robert.

There was no fixing Grandma, either, not after he’d made the hole big enough.


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