I tried to saw the ice cube in half. Ever done it? You’d know what happened. You might even have nine fingers to show for it or less. Don’t ask why. Did they ask you? Did your Mom ask why you used your Dad’s old rusty saw? Or why ice, for fucks sake, why ice? Or why today when your Dad was coming to take you for the weekend and she had plans to go out with her friends, to that bar, you know that bar, yeah that one, the first time in months because though you said you were old enough to be left on your own, she never believed it and look how you’re proving her right now. Did your Mom ask why you were so white and where all that blood was coming from and was it a gag and where did you leave your finger and was it only one as if that was a good thing. It was a good thing, wasn’t it? It could have been more. It could have been more. And when she finds the finger on the garage floor with the ice melting on the oil stain where your Dad’s car once parked, did she ask you why?
Rosaleen Lynch, an Irish community worker and writer in the East End of London, loves stories conversational, literary and performed. Words in lots of lovely places and can be found on Twitter @quotes_52 and 52Quotes.blogspot.com
image: Peter Gutierrez