Cara Thurlbourn

Wonderment

The moon is swollen and brighter than usual. Her pale, quivering light creates elongated shadows between the crevices of the buildings below. A boy stops and looks up. He can’t see me – he is wearing his mask – but I hold my breath all the same. Stepping back from the window frame, my sleeve catches on a shard of old paint. It tugs briefly then snaps free. The sensation sends a shiver through down my spine.