3 Micro Fictions by Laura Besley
in it to win it
laura besley
Henry feeds a coin into the slot. He aligns the grabber, holds his breath as golden claws glint, grip a pudgy tummy, and lift the baby.
Arms waving and legs kicking, she is swung to the left, her smile glisten-gummy wide, eyes dark like the other babies he and his wife have had – and lost.
An inch before she reaches the chute, she slips from forcep-fingers, lands with a thud onto the pile of other babies. He pounds and pounds on the glass, but her eyes are already closed.
The machine wails, pumps out light. Beckoning him to try again.
for me there is only one star in the sea
laura besley
Arms and legs wide, I lie on the carpet like a sea star. I stare at the mobile of bees and bugs and butterflies loitering above my baby’s cot.
I swish my sucker-heavy limbs through the dust, sending scales of skin – her skin – swirling up into the air.
My mouth dilates and I gulp greedily. I rub circles, small and foetus-tight, on my belly, coaxing the muscle and blood and flesh beneath to remember, remember how to grow a baby, my baby, just like my heart remembers how to miss her, and I imagine her cells diving down. Womb-deep. Proliferating.
deceptive
laura besley
Danny and I met during lockdown. We’d hang back at the end of work zoom calls. Soon we were talking every evening and weekend.
Once restrictions had been lifted, we arranged to meet, but he didn’t show.
I’m sorry, he texted. You’ve only ever seen my face.
The next weekend we agreed to meet again, have lunch in a roadside café. I got there early and from my car, I watched him. He looked exactly as he’d described: tall and slim. So why was he worried? And whatever would he think of me?
I drove away, gravel pockmarking my car.
