The following is from a work in progress by Fiona Clifford
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[From April 1-9] It was a stifling weekend with Wren - full of incessant, drizzling rain; stale air, the lingering smell of fried bacon from breakfast; and the sensed agitation of the neighbors, also cooped up in their constricted apartment worlds.
"Bored, bored, bored," Wren muttered to herself, pacing the living room's threadbare carpet. Then, unexpectedly lunging at Laura on the couch and digging her fingers into her mother's thighs, she shouted "I'M BORED" in Laura's face.
Startled by the wild flash in her daughter's eyes, Laura pressed back into the couch cushions.
Wren released her grip, retreated a few steps. Flapping her arms against the sides of her own legs, she twirled in lopsided circles before collapsing on the floor with an exasperated sigh.
Trying to act normal, Laura rose from the couch. Heart skittering, she headed to the hallway closet to see if there were any forgotten board games that might occupy Wren.
Fraying towels, ill-fitting spare sheets waited in the dust and dark. At the bottom of it all, a lopsided pile of puzzles and games teetered.
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