Velcro by Emma Baines
Hook and eye, her and I. Tiny fingers link a tight-knit community. Rows of uniform soldiers wrap themselves around her stiff new shoe for protection. Each fixed hook is an embrace, the link to a Mother’s love threaded around the padlock at the school gate. Woman and child are pressed safely together and carpet fluff, from home, clings in bobbles like a warm down; a blanket-barrier between them, and the new surrounding. The Velcro squeezes, anticipating the sharp shock of separation; a band-aid snatched from a playground-grazed knee. ‘I love you’ I whisper, letting go. The Velcro flaps carelessly as she skips away.
I am half-hearted
In this half-home, half empty,
Hatching a half-life.
Writing Contests 2010