Ciaran Mercer

Domestic Suspense

Child in Negative Space

Ciaran Mercer

Aoife tasted smoke long before she saw the fire. Even with the window jammed shut, it seeped in under the crooked frame, the way everything from outside did in this house – arguments on the street, sirens, laughter, the boys singing sectarian songs when they were drunk enough to forget the neighbours’ politics. She lay flat on her back, one hand spread over the small, hard curve of her belly, and watched the orange flicker crawling up her ceiling.