He could hear his mum coughing and his grandma saying, “It’s okay, darling, it’s okay, shh, shh, shh.”
He glanced back out of the kitchen window on his way to the sitting room. The monster was gone.
His grandma was on the settee, holding on to his mum, rubbing her back
as she threw up into a small bucket they kept nearby just in case.
His grandma looked up at him, but her face was set and hard and totally unreadable.
THE WILDNESS OF STORIES
The house was dark. His grandma had finally got his mum to bed
and then had gone into Conor’s bedroom and shut the door,
not asking if he wanted anything out of it before she went to sleep herself.
Conor lay awake on the settee. He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep,
not with the things his grandma had said, not with how his mother had looked tonight.
It was three full days after the treatment, about the time she usually started feeling better,
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