Writing Prompt 16: Arm Stretch

Her Long, Pale Fingers

She lies on her side watching the telly and reaches her hand up to the ceiling in an absent-minded manner. She touches the tip of each finger to her thumb, over and over again.

What habits do you have? Which ones of other people in your life do you hate?

---

"Violet. Stop staring out the window."

Violet's mother dropped a small pile of clean clothes onto her bed. "And put these away, please. Don't just leave them on the floor.

"Why doesn't anyone live there?" said Violet, peeling herself away from the window.

"No one's ever lived there as far as I know. Come on. Clothes away."

Violet sniffed and rubbed the end of her nose as her mother left the room. She lifted the pile of clothing and opened the bottom drawer by hooking her toes underneath and pulling hard. She made a hole in the jumble of clothes in the drawer and pushed the freshly washed pile in until she could shut the drawer. She sat against the chest of drawers drumming her fingers together. An unexpected knock at the door made her jump.

"Hey," said her friend Freddie, walking right in.

"God. You made me jump."

"Your mum says you've been staring at the house next door."

"She won't tell me anything about it."

Freddie went to the window. Outside an elderly couple weeded the borders of their garden.

"Who are they?" he said.

Violet was at his side.

"They come and go. I think they look after the garden. They never go inside."

"I bet they know," said Freddie.

Story first posted April 2020 // Photo: Tanya Clarke - Watching telly, 2018