“This is one of the rare stories I wrote longhand in a fever pitch during a late night ferry crossing between the mainland and Vancouver Island. I don’t tend to write when inspired — I’m more of a work horse. But this came to me in a flash, fully dressed and ready to go. It’s one of my favourites.”
Of All the Things the Girls Had Ever Said
by Melody Wolfe
When Fay said, “This isn’t the first time this has happened to me, you know,” Richard was surprised.
Of all the things the girls had ever said, all the pleas, threats, insults and confessions, this hitchhiker’s calm admission was the strangest. Not just for its content, not just for the tone of its delivery, but also for the fact that she was saying it mere minutes after waking up in the basement.
All he could muster in way of reply was, “Oh?” He hated how weak it sounded, and pale and wan and fragile.
But Fay didn’t seem to notice. She nodded, as if that was the answer, all the details he needed. She absently reached a small hand up to rub the back of her neck, massaging the bruised place where he’d jabbed her with the needle. It was that smallness that had initially attracted him to her. She barely topped five feet, a tiny little thing, slender like a young boy. But Richard quickly shied away from that place, uncomfortable with its implications. (Continue Reading…)