“Angels” • by Sophie Sparrow

My mother told me the static on the TV was footage of angels dancing. I’d press my five-year-old nose against the glass and watch the spinning silver-grey dots ‘til I got dizzy.

Mum talked to angels a lot. So much that the district nurse’s visits became almost daily, whilst bills remained unpaid and dishes piled up in the sink.

The times she was in hospital, I’d talk to the static: “Tell her I miss her.”

She never told me if the message got through.

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Sophie Sparrow writes fantasy fiction and humour. Her work has appeared in PseudoPod, Arsenika, Mad Scientist Journal, and (Dis)Ability: An Anthology. She has worked as a content writer, transcriptionist, and software tester, speaks Russian and French, has previously been paid to wander around film sets, and is now quite tired of writing about herself in the third person. She likes cats and red wine, though not in the same glass. Keep up to date with what she's doing at www.writersophiesparrow.com

 

 

 

 

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► “A Nightingale Sings,” by Sylvia Heike
► “Angels,” by Sophie Sparrow
► “My Name is Static,” by Christopher Degni
► “Symmetry,” by Gustavo Bondoni
► “Sound Effects,” by Kimberly Ann Smiley