The nun rubbed
Anne’s leg stump with ointment
her small hands
moving up and down.
Anne eyed her grimly,
the hands in motion,
the fingers as thin sticks.
How is your leg?
the nun said,
gazing at Anne,
taking in
her grim features.
Hurts and the toes itch
and I go to rub them
and they aren't there,
Anne said.
The nun studied her.
God's blessed child
with the pain.
Must be hurtful.
No leg to stand on
or just the one.
Anne stared at the nun's
black and white headdress,
the pale face,
thin features,
thin lips.
Bet she hasn't done it.
Bet her virgina's closed up
like a bud in winter.
Is that better?
the nun said.
No it isn't,
Anne said,
still fecking hurts.
Language please Anne,
the nun said,
if Sister Agnes were
to hear that
she would not
be pleased.
The nun rubbed
her hands together
wiping the ointment
into her own hands.
Poor child.
But a share
in Our Lord's pain.
Give my back teeth for.
Anne put her hand
to her lips.
Sorry about the language,
Sister, it slipped out.
As the bishop said
to the nun.
Anne smiled.
The nun smiled too.
God's blessed child.
Must be going now,
Anne, you rest
that leg stump.
I will,
Anne said.
The nun walked away,
her hands inside her habit.
She passed Benny
on her way back
to the nursing home
from the lawn where
Anne sat in her chair.
She nodded and smiled.
Benny smiled and nodded.
Anne beckoned him over
to her chair.
Benny walked
to where Anne sat.
What did the penguin
want with you?
he said,
eyeing Anne's
grim face.
Rubbed my fecking leg
with some ointment
to make it softer
she said the silly cow,
Anne said.
Anyway how are you
Skinny Kid?
Benny pulled a chair
next to her
and sat down.
I'm fine,
he said,
staring toward
the leg stump
just beneath
her red skirt.
Does it not work?
he said.
What work?
she said.
The ointment
does it not work?
he said.
Makes it greasy
that's all,
she said.
He watched the red skirt,
the empty space beneath.
Here have a gaze at it,
she said,
lifting her red skirt
so her stump showed.
He gazed at it.
It's not so red
as it was,
he said.
Just as ******* well,
she said,
it was like an
over worked *****
He smiled.
She looked at him
and sighed
and pulled down
the skirt again.
How old are you
now, Kid?
she said.
11 years old,
he replied.
Well I’m 12 years old,
too big for my age
my mother said,
what with my *******
and ***** hair,
Anne said.
What's ***** hair?
he said.
Go ask the sisters,
Anne said,
they'll know.
Benny nodded.
I'll will,
he said,
looking at Anne seriously.
You do that, Kid,
she said.
He looked back
towards the nursing home.
She watched him.
His quiff of brown hair;
the hazel eyes;
the innocent,
she mused.
Push me to the beach
later, Kid,
she said,
I want to have a smoke.
He turned back
to look at her.
Sure,
he said,
any time you want to.
She smiled.
Her best friend.
God be praised,
if God be there.
She sat still
giving him
the big stare.
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 7:21 AM UTC
The nun rubbed
Anne’s leg stump with ointment
her small hands
moving up and down.
Anne eyed her grimly,
the hands in motion,
the fingers as thin sticks.
How is your leg?
the nun said,
gazing at Anne,
taking in
her grim features.
Hurts and the toes itch
and I go to rub them
and they aren't there,
Anne said.
The nun studied her.
God's blessed child
with the pain.
Must be hurtful.
No leg to stand on
or just the one.
Anne stared at the nun's
black and white headdress,
the pale face,
thin features,
thin lips.
Bet she hasn't done it.
Bet her virgina's closed up
like a bud in winter.
Is that better?
the nun said.
No it isn't,
Anne said,
still fecking hurts.
Language please Anne,
the nun said,
if Sister Agnes were
to hear that
she would not
be pleased.
The nun rubbed
her hands together
wiping the ointment
into her own hands.
Poor child.
But a share
in Our Lord's pain.
Give my back teeth for.
Anne put her hand
to her lips.
Sorry about the language,
Sister, it slipped out.
As the bishop said
to the nun.
Anne smiled.
The nun smiled too.
God's blessed child.
Must be going now,
Anne, you rest
that leg stump.
I will,
Anne said.
The nun walked away,
her hands inside her habit.
She passed Benny
on her way back
to the nursing home
from the lawn where
Anne sat in her chair.
She nodded and smiled.
Benny smiled and nodded.
Anne beckoned him over
to her chair.
Benny walked
to where Anne sat.
What did the penguin
want with you?
he said,
eyeing Anne's
grim face.
Rubbed my fecking leg
with some ointment
to make it softer
she said the silly cow,
Anne said.
Anyway how are you
Skinny Kid?
Benny pulled a chair
next to her
and sat down.
I'm fine,
he said,
staring toward
the leg stump
just beneath
her red skirt.
Does it not work?
he said.
What work?
she said.
The ointment
does it not work?
he said.
Makes it greasy
that's all,
she said.
He watched the red skirt,
the empty space beneath.
Here have a gaze at it,
she said,
lifting her red skirt
so her stump showed.
He gazed at it.
It's not so red
as it was,
he said.
Just as ******* well,
she said,
it was like an
over worked *****
He smiled.
She looked at him
and sighed
and pulled down
the skirt again.
How old are you
now, Kid?
she said.
11 years old,
he replied.
Well I’m 12 years old,
too big for my age
my mother said,
what with my *******
and ***** hair,
Anne said.
What's ***** hair?
he said.
Go ask the sisters,
Anne said,
they'll know.
Benny nodded.
I'll will,
he said,
looking at Anne seriously.
You do that, Kid,
she said.
He looked back
towards the nursing home.
She watched him.
His quiff of brown hair;
the hazel eyes;
the innocent,
she mused.
Push me to the beach
later, Kid,
she said,
I want to have a smoke.
He turned back
to look at her.
Sure,
he said,
any time you want to.
She smiled.
Her best friend.
God be praised,
if God be there.
She sat still
giving him
the big stare.
