The Old Woman's Fingers


St Petersburg, 1919

 
Enough's enough. Today's the day I leave the elderly couple who've taken care of me the past few months. They've been attentive but kept me too long and seem resistant to my leaving.

 
I thank them for getting me back to strength, and their offers to find out who I am. I politely prise the old woman's fingers from the door as the old man advances, and i'm off.

 
The first street is plastered with newspaper, but I'm distracted by shouting and look round. A large group of people slowly bear down on me, joyful and hungry.

by Ellie Herda-Grimwood

 


 


 

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