Pristine is a Place to Start
The white house tickles something inside him. The picket fence, the trike out front, the lace curtains at the windows. He fumbles with his equipment at first, then forces himself to calm calm calm.
Spotless snow in the backyard.
No fumbling, no twitching eye, no tripping over wires. He’s a professional, a professional.
Fresh sheet of bubblewrap.
He packs the bag with steady hands. The fuses and the clippers and the screws and all the other oddments and pieces.
Lips parting in anticipation.
Before heading up the path, he wipes the sweat from his face. The cobbles are hemmed with pansies. Each small face nods him on. He knocks on the door, ignoring the bell.
Breath condensing on frosted glass panes.
He draws a smiley face.
Light footsteps and the door swings away, revealing a solemn little face.
Are your parents home?
She nods, her thumb in her mouth. He tugs it out and she gives him a gap toothed smile.
He lets himself in.
Rachel Sawaya lives in Wellington, New Zealand. She is a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer (Mali ’04-’06) and is currently completing a Masters in Creative Writing through Victoria University. She has been published by Radio New Zealand and recently won the nationwide Ocean:View competition run by WWF. Her blog can be found at http://lastlittlebird.blogspot.com/