by Nick Garrard
Alba was so beautiful it made my joints ache. I smiled at her meekly as she bedded the morning needle in the soft pit of my arm. Sometimes she’d smile back. So, I pretended not to notice when she began stealing my pills. They were horrible, sour little things and they gave me the licorice like a running tap. But I drew the line at Derek’s limb. In the dark of the ward I’d watched as she lifted it loose and folded it neatly in her apron, walking out as innocent as smoke. In a way, it comforted me. Even Alba was broken on the inside.
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Nick Garrard just puts the words down, sometimes in the right order.
The Pygmy Giant 
#1 by Lyndsey on December 20, 2011 - 12:16 pm
I love everything about this. I love the presentation of the protagonist’s vulnerability and over-adaptability. Of course, he sees Alba take a step to far…then our hero’s perspective of her is transformed.
There is a great philosophical contradiction conjured from : ‘walking out as innocent as smoke’, but the imagery used to illustrate Alba’s exit is not contradictory, it’s perfect.
The story is insightful, hauntingly beautiful, and yet so very sinister.
Just to reiterate: I loved it:)
#2 by Bob Jacobs on December 24, 2011 - 1:54 pm
Nice one, Nick.