At a Loss
By: Kate Lewington
Dry wood floor the colour of gravy and a climbing wall. A store cupboard with crates of basketballs and team bibs that only met a washing machine at the end of the school year. The benches are being scraped back as the class individuals stand up. One girl is apart from the rest. Her arms crossed over healing wrists. Her pocket bulges because of a concealed packet of sweets. Wearing joggers and a blue/green t-shirt, stitched on the chest is the school logo. Trainers are muddy from last week's outside lesson. The whistle blows and the class begins. Teacher approaches the girl and squats where she sits. Points to the bruise on the girl's arm, ‘How did you get this?’ The girl remembers, blinks solemnly from her fringe. She had been frustrated and hurt, in distress. It had been late at night and she hadn’t been able to sleep. She had torn at her arm using her teeth and clenched. ‘I hit it on the door.’ She responds to her teacher.
‘Oh, nasty door.’
From the South of England, Kate is a writer/poet and blogger. Their writing is largely based on the themes of belonging, loss, and wonder. They have been recently published by Ink in Thirds, Poetry as Promised, Hot Pot Magazine, Discretionary Love and Partially Shy Magazine. https://katelouisepoetry.wordpress.com/IG