Jen Thorpe
@jenthorpewriter.bsky.social
Author of Adulting101, The Fall, The Peculiars. Editor of Living While Feminist, Feminism Is, and My First Time. Writer. https://jen-thorpe.com
A single knock. I found a boy dragging a twiggy arm across a snotty nose, his eyes narrow.
‘You’re not Luke.’
‘I’m his mum.’
The boy pushed past me, muddy prints trailing behind.
‘Luke!’ He shouted,‘We need to talk.’
‘He’s out.’
‘I’ll wait.’
The boy sat, chewing off a nail.
‘Tea?’
‘Alright then.’
‘You’re not Luke.’
‘I’m his mum.’
The boy pushed past me, muddy prints trailing behind.
‘Luke!’ He shouted,‘We need to talk.’
‘He’s out.’
‘I’ll wait.’
The boy sat, chewing off a nail.
‘Tea?’
‘Alright then.’
June 5, 2025 at 12:48 PM
A single knock. I found a boy dragging a twiggy arm across a snotty nose, his eyes narrow.
‘You’re not Luke.’
‘I’m his mum.’
The boy pushed past me, muddy prints trailing behind.
‘Luke!’ He shouted,‘We need to talk.’
‘He’s out.’
‘I’ll wait.’
The boy sat, chewing off a nail.
‘Tea?’
‘Alright then.’
‘You’re not Luke.’
‘I’m his mum.’
The boy pushed past me, muddy prints trailing behind.
‘Luke!’ He shouted,‘We need to talk.’
‘He’s out.’
‘I’ll wait.’
The boy sat, chewing off a nail.
‘Tea?’
‘Alright then.’