All of them smirked waiting for an explanation.
Given time Synch would have come up with something explanatory and sanitised to conceal his recently acquired ‘gift.’
They couldn’t wait.
“… must have been running from … “
“Can you walk?”
“… in pain … “
“… caught him yet?”
“… own flat …”
Christmas day lunch thought Synch. Everyone talking at once and no-one making any sense.
From the middle of the melee came a shrill,
Synch smiled at the silence.
“Auntie Jane?” he said.
Pushing bodies aside a small neat woman in her fifties came forth, worry creasing her brow. She was his mother’s older sister. She acted much younger than his mother.
“Synchro my lad.” She considered all her nieces and nephews to be her own. Perhaps because she had no children of herself. “What happened ya great Wally?” She patted his arm affectionately.
So many eyes watching him. He opened his mouth. Nothing came out. His backside throbbed. He looked at Cindy for support.
“A crazed intruder broke into his flat and tried to kill Synch,” she said.
His face paled. His butt felt like a white hot skewer was twisting its way deeper into his flesh.
Cindy felt his hand wet and tense, noticed the slight sheen of sweat on his face and neck, saw his stilted movements under the bed covers.
“Are you ok? Shall I call a nurse?” she said pressing the call button.
His audience frowned sympathetically en mass.
“I’m… fine… “ he breathed.
Cindy knew he was not.
By Diane L Wood
My Bio: http://write-intention.com/Diane_L_Wood.html
A Short Short Story: http://easywaytowrite.19.forumer.com/viewtopic.php?t=9
A Short Short Story: http://ancientearthashortstory.blogspot.com/
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