Waiting for Word – A Books of Binding Flash Fiction
Cian sat, eyes glued to the clock high on the wall and hands absently bouncing Noel in his baby seat on the worn kitchen table. The second hand dragged its way around the face. The minute hand jumped. 11:28. It was almost time. The mail was usually in the box at the end of the mile long Mulcahy Drive by 11:45. Cian had learned this week that it took him thirteen minutes to calmly walk from the front door to the mailbox. On Monday, he had done it in nine minutes, running with Noel bouncing in his chest carrier. But Read More …