Thursday, 23 June 2011

Thursday @ 3 - "What's the Catch?"

I have absolutely no idea what inspired this week's story other than an image, similar to the picture above, which flashed through my mind the other day. The story sort of wrote itself and with just a few minor alterations, it's on the 300-word limit I give myself. "3", of course, features somewhere in the story.......

Feel free to comment - or join in, why don't you?


It all comes down to trust. That few seconds of flying through the air, trusting he’ll catch me; that I’ll be in exactly the right point of the swing’s arc, that my hands will snap-lock around his wrists.

I’ve done this hundreds of times; felt the slap of his fingers copying mine and grasping me at the wrists; his big fingers gripping like a pair of flesh handcuffs.

But this is different.

I recall how he looked at me when I arrived late for warm-up; the giveaway of flushed cheeks as his brother, Bruno, arrived late too.

Swing one, two, drop backwards, my weight on the backs of my knees, arms trailing in the air. Swing one, two, three; release. As I leave the small comfort of the swing I see him reaching out but his eyes are cold.

He knows.

The air rushes between my fingers, like raking my hands through icy water. I hold my breath. Seconds become small eternities, long enough to focus beyond his stare to the third in our triplet; waiting, watching, silently counting, ready to jump forward to take my place from the release.

Then warm hands circle my wrists and snap me back into the present. Gravity’s swing pulls at my shoulder sockets as the vice-grip of the catcher holds my weight. Now, the release.

Instead, he holds tight. My hands are trapped as Bruno launches forwards and I see him grapple with the air, fighting for the hand-holds that would see us exchange places, before I watch him tumbling into deadly blackness.

I hang like a ragdoll in my husband’s grip, remembering his words that first time I agreed to trust him on the trapeze. Tears course down my face as his voice echoes in my mind.

“I’ll never let you go.”


  1. Whoa, Nice and tight suspense. Well done Sue.

  2. Excellent! I was right there with her.

  3. oooh! Don't ever mess with the catcher when you're a flying trapeze artist. Good one.

    Tossing It Out