Written using prompts from a CAKE workshop with Sarah last Sunday. We pulled the prompts from a bag full of newspaper cuttings. The only one I can remember clearly is Batman.
There are thousands of them in the evening air, brushing wings and trembling on a breeze. The moths bash heads as we hold hands, her narrow palm slides into mine, cool as a card drawn from a pack. My lucky suit, clubs. Last night I’d turned up spade after spade, money like water, a steady flow of it downhill. I could smell my sweat as the online casino was rolling. Easy to turn it into a waterfall of thousands, my bank account was as red as a fresh flipped diamond. The debt was strangling the house as surely as the vines were covering the back window. She has no idea. This evening I am silent, taking refuge in touch, the faintly chamomile smell from her jumper mixing with the spicy mouthfuls of beer I swallow, pressing her fingers one at a time.
It’s Halloween, a pumpkin glows malevolently across the road. She seems happy, I’m so happy, she says. I believe her, she sounds sincere. A small boy wearing a black cape, with two small felt triangles jutting from his scalp, dashes through our street view. She is laughing, then the boy falls.