Cheapside, London, 20 years ago:
The girl clutched the bundle to her chest, blood still clinging to her inner thighs. As
she hurried down the street, 3am, a ghostly hour, mizzle glistened under streetlamps, lay cobweb-film in her hair. She reached the church steps, tucked Baby in the little porch.
Cheapside, London, present day:
The bride clutches the bouquet to her chest. She grips her dad’s arm, always a real
father to her. Sun catches her tiara sparkles, sprinkling rainbows. Up the church steps and down the aisle of St Mary-le-Bow, to her happy beginning.
A small figure creeps in, sits at the back, remembers the shame, Uncle’s unwanted
attentions. Watches the service with brimming eyes, but remains steadfast, silent. As
the Bow bells ring out, she tries to slip away, but the bride catches her eye, the chimes drowning out any words that could be said.
Originally a journalist and sub-editor, Sarah Barnett’s words have been performed by Short Story Today and Act Your Age Productions. She’s been published in Flashflood 2021 and 2023, Paragraph Planet, Five Minutes, Retreat West, Inkfish, Free Flash Fiction, and Pure Slush. She also won Highly Commended in the NFFD microfiction competition 2024.
This story was shortlisted in the June 24 Monthly Micro Competition.