A Squeaky Voice

By John L. Malone

So how are we this morning? chirps the Covid Marshal
as I stand unsteadily
between
the Fitting Rooms and the Bras display
at Big W.
I look around.
There is only one of me
so I assume
she is using the royal ‘we.’
I wasn’t looking at the bras
I say
in a squeaky voice.
I really wasn’t.
It’s all right, she says. You waiting for someone?
Yes, I say, my wife.
She’s trying on some cardigans.
Okay, she says.
Have a nice day.
I smile.
I think I got away with it.


John is amazed how by the addition of one tiny detail you can charge the everyday with something sinister

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