Yelling and Shouting by Chas

Aug 18 2011

“Your masochism hurts me,” Rachael said, staring down at him.

“Doesn’t that make me a sadist?” he asked. He couldn’t judge how far up she was on the stairwell; her head was tiny.

“If you enjoy hurting me, yes. Otherwise, no.”

The little boy who lived in the apartment with the always-yelling mother tried to push past her. He was carrying a red ball. When she wouldn’t move, he peered over the rail to see where she was staring.

“Hey, Roger!” the boy shouted. “Tell your girlfriend to move!”

“Hey, Kennard!” he shouted. Kennard grinned, probably because no one else remembered his name. Roger was glad he remembered. “She’s not my girlfriend!”

The silence hung like a great crimson exclamation mark welded to clear glass. Rachael gasped. She wrenched the ball from Kennard and hurled it down the stairwell.

Faster than a hummingbird, Roger caught the ball with his face.


Chas is an English teacher who lives with his wife — also a
teacher — in South Korea.

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