By Malene Huse Eikrem
“I’m right here,” he said, when his sister’s hold on his hand tightened.
Slim waves curled around their naked ankles. Something crashed loudly in the house behind them. The cabinet, he thought, the one their grandfather had built in a very different point in time, in a very different life.
“Don’t worry, they’re just dancing.”
“Then why’s Mom screaming?”
“You know when I’m chasing you and you’re having so much fun you scream and laugh at the same time?”
“Oh,” she said, falling quiet, “right.”
Her blond hair burned red as the sun died and gave way to the dark, again.
Sounds like a bit of homicide going on, to me. Of course, maybe they really are just dancing, cutting up, and having a wonderful time. I like this because one can make their own choice as to what is really going on in the house behind the brother and sister.