by Sarah Leavesley
Cass watched excitement bubble across teenage girls’ faces as their mouths filled with clouds of sweet pink candyfloss. Next, they’d sway to Danny’s music and let the waltzers spin their money and ground away... until the ride stopped and they staggered off. Each night ended the same: a last lone goldfish in a plastic bag, the smell of burnt sugar and litter everywhere. She’d sick up chips, then try to cushion the poor takings and avoid new bruises. Cass stroked her belly’s gentle swell, imperceptible beneath thick layers against the cold. “We’ve got this, baby girl,” she whispered, rucksack in hand, ready to sneak out while Danny was dismantling the waltzers.
6S
Sarah Leavesley is a prize-winning fiction writer, poet, journalist and photographer. She also runs V. Press, publishing poetry and flash fiction chapbooks and collections.