Broken Net

I’m sure that for a millisecond my heart ceased to pump. And I’m sure that in that millisecond it had made an attempt to fly out of my mouth onto the bathroom floor. Why else would I have such an aching pain in my chest and throat?

The piece of paper that I discovered scrumpled in his trouser pocket lies flat in the palm of my hand, wavering a little because my hands are trembling. I don’t know what hurts most: finding it with a lipstick smeared kiss-print on it, or the fact that I had willingly chosen to ignore previous signs.

Denial is my safety net. I happily skip along through my meadow of ‘this-is-not-happening’ because the mere thought of confronting the truth induces fear to squeeze every single one of my organs until I’m unable to breath.

And here it is. Irrefutable evidence. The horse’s mouth had not told me audibly, rather it had planted its mark on this rumpled sheet. Knowledge is powerful when one knows how to utilise it effectively. My task now? How to break the news to mum.

This was the result of a writing prompt I came across. I feel my voice is diminishing, but I’m determined to push ahead. ~ LY

© LaYinka Sanni, October 2011

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