Flash Fiction 2nd Place: Time to Go by Mathew Sweet

Deep in her jacket pocket her hand pulls tight around her car keys, a hidden spur digging into the skin of her palm, she knows there are other people waiting to use this room, she knows that this is it, she can’t stay here forever, but she feels not just stuck but locked in position, like when she was a kid in that department store and it was Christmas and the place was full of people and coats and kids and wet, snowy boot prints all over the floor, and she was with Mommy and Lee and they were looking for presents, something for Auntie Kay, something for George, and there were bells ringing somewhere and Christmas music, different songs from two different places, and when they stepped out into the main street the lights had come on, giant illuminated snowflakes that spanned the road in glistening, glittering white, and beneath that, the trees lit up in shimmering starlight strings of green and gold and red that glowed and rippled in the reflecting puddles and it took her breath away, and she held their hands, Mommy and Lee, and she swung between them, and then they were in the parking lot and Mommy was looking for the ticket and Lee was laughing, and she clambered up onto the wall to see out over those lights, crawling first, then standing up to look, and maybe they were only four floors up, but it came in a rush, she looked down and she felt that dizzying height, she felt herself to be right on the edge of it with nothing to hold her back, and all the magic fell away and a great terror washed over her, tightening her tummy in coils and closing up her throat, freezing every muscle and bone and sinew in place, and she feels like that now, years later, as if she were still stuck on that wall, as if she were made of granite, unable to move a muscle, and unable to do anything about it except hope for someone to lift her out, to wrap strong hands around her middle and pull her down to somewhere safe, but there’s just David holding his coat and staring at the floor with red eyes, and the nurse, who lays a hand on her arm so gently that she can barely feel it, saying, it’s okay. Take however long you need.