The Other Side of the Glass

by Constance Bourg

 

We left the hotel early this morning. Mummy Joyce combed my hair, and mummy Karen told me to wear my raincoat. It has my name inside; “Katie” it says. I am on a break from school and I miss my friends, but I am also having fun with my mummies, because they are taking me to different places that I have never been to before. I had waffles for breakfast this morning. They smelled sweet and moist and tasted like my birthday.

It is a little wet on the street and I see a strange man looking at me. He looks right at me. I don’t like it, but mummy Joyce is holding my hand and now we are moving towards a tall building with a wide, dark opening. Like a mouth, it swallows us, but inside I see we are in a lofty hall with shiny walls all lined with veins like the ones on the inside of my arm. We go into an elevator. There are too many people squashed into the moving box, so I am glad when the doors swoosh open and I can breathe again.

Outside, I see a large glass barrier. Through it I can see misty shapes and I want to look at them, so I start moving towards the glass, but mummy Joyce is still holding on to my hand. My mummies are talking and laughing. Then I pull again, and this time I feel my hand slipping a little.

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