A short short story

The following story appears in 50 Short Short Stories by Young New Zealanders, edited by Graeme Lay (Tandem Press $19.95).

The author, Lily Emerson, a 15-year-old student at Epsom Girls Grammar School, took second place in the inaugural short short story contest run by the publisher. In all, 357 budding writers under 18 entered their 500 words or less efforts.

Judge Owen Marshall said of Emerson's story that it was sensitive without being sentimental. "The story successfully conveys the idea of a complex relationship, both loving and perplexing. The ending is particularly effective."

The other winners are: first place, The Burial by Kristina Henderson, Tawa College, Wellington; third place, Courtenay Place, Two Sections Please by Jane Copeland, Hastings Girls' High School, Hawkes Bay.

Highly commended: Garden by Nova Jiang, Diocesan School for Girls, Auckland; By any other Name by Chloe Gordon, Epsom Girls Grammar, Auckland.

Taine

By LILY EMERSON



Head1: A short short story


Caption1: Lily Emerson


Sidebar1:

Subhead1: Taine


Byline1: By LILY EMERSON

Blurb1: Blurb1

Body1: I WATCHED Taine break the crusts off a piece of white bread and chuck them at the sparrows. He tried to scare away the seagulls, he tried to give the smaller birds a chance.

He looked as though he hadn't slept for days. As his arm extended I could see the spidery tracks crawling up his arm, the mountains of collapsed veins. We caught each other's eyes.

The salt air was mixed with the city fumes. The fountain we were sitting on occasionally sprayed us. The wet patch on my back was spreading.

I wanted to get up and walk away. Lie under a tree. Do something. My bones were coiled tight and my jaw hurt. My fists were balls by my side.

Still he held my gaze.

Taine was my brother. You could forget blood, we were family. I'd loved him ever since we were three years old and he used to steal my soft toys. I'd loved him every second he had spent in detention with me at intermediate school (he would often get into trouble so he could keep me company). I loved him later when he drifted off to Metro and I to Epsom Girls.

I even loved him when we lost touch and Cheryl would come to visit, when she would come and tell us how he was going. She looked twice her age in those days.

Taine was in rehab, Taine wasn't at school.

Taine was clean, Taine was top of his class.

Taine, it seemed, was a typical Libran. The scales never balanced.

It's been so long since I saw him. My nefarious muse.

He's invading me with his stare. His hand is reaching for me. I don't want him to touch me though. I can't see those track marks, because I can't break his gaze. But I don't want them near me.

He rests his hand on my face. His hand is warmer and softer than I imagined. It rests heavily on me, I can almost feel the bones through it.

I close my eyes. No more staring. He leans forward and kisses me. Soft lips. I haven't kissed him since we were eight. Pot and earth, like shaken-out roots, invade my nostrils. I can taste a cigarette, but I don't know if it's mine or his.

When Taine leans back I pick up my bag.

"I love you, my nefarious muse."

I called him that from the age of ten. I looked up the words in the dictionary. He liked Shakespeare, and it sounded Shakespearean to me. Even then he fitted the title. "Love you, petals." Lily ... petals. Not quite so complex.

I walk away without looking back. If I see him by himself, I might never go. I just keep walking forward, guilty for progressing. Taine could follow if he wanted, we could go get ice cream. But he won't. Taine never does.