Peals of laughter "creak" back and forth – on
rickety swings, your hands pressed
against shoulder blades(can you feel the wings?
"I eat those in restaurants".).
-
Harry woke (wakes, awoke, awake, wide – wider – won't, woke). "Nononono." Splinters in his fingers from the floorboards Uncle Vernon mailed to his bed. "Comfortable, boy?" Sticking out like wooden hairs – boys don't shave. "Freak." The cupboard is closed and hot and the window is shattered. Splinters in his brain. It's a wonder the spiders haven't left him.
-
There's an indentation in the rubber strip
attached to chains, the child's organs
spilling onto the dirt in a raunchy tune.
Aha.
-
"Aunt Petunia! Aunt Petunia!" Stringy hair, fumbling fingers – clutch her sleeve. Wretch. Disentangle the fingers. "What is it, boy?" Green eyes. Stare into each other. Aunt Petunia I love you I love you, why don't you love me? "Dudley's fallen on the front porch steps and scraped his knee." Blood. On Harry's hands, face, knees, elbows (not that that's unusual). I love you I love you, I do, but I love Dudley more.
She doesn't have to say it. Stay in the cupboard.
-
Dudley is the most perfect, perfect boy. His cheeks are soft and pink and his blond hair is like a halo around his head. He's Aunt Petunia's little boy. Her little angel. He would never, never do anything wrong. Dudley throws his pet hamster out of the window. She buys him a new one. Nononono. To love. Mi amore. Dudley has a gang. At six. Principal Walker calls. Petunia pretends. Nonono. Couldn't be her boy, not ever ever ever ever – Dudley kicks Harry in the ribcage. Petunia flinches.