Listen to a reading of this story by Kerry Byrne:
It is 43,200 seconds and at least three secrets until the man sleeping next to her returns from work and dumps his dirty boots in the freshly mopped cloakroom. The twins rush to him as if she no longer exists, the damn dog venturing out of its crate, tail erect and wagging. While the boy hangs off his dada’s trouser leg and the girl grips her dada’s free hand that isn’t patting the labrador’s head, she greets her husband of 3774 days with a quick brush of a kiss on his cheek and a rhetorical How was your day, love? on her way to the stairs and the sound of water thudding tub. Before reaching the landing, she smells bath salts, the thyme scent of her mother, whose hand guides hers to slide the lock across the bathroom door. Alone—at last—she sheds in front of the misted mirror and eases, hag-like, into the cleansing water. As her coke-white calves redden, she tries for a few seconds to enjoy the sound of her family playing downstairs before slipping her head under the water and starting to count.
Kerry Byrne lives and writes in the Fens, with a backdrop of sky-filled water and endless horizon. Her writing has been published by Ellipsis Zine, Lucy Writers, Pidgeonholes and streetcake magazine, among others. In 2022, Kerry received a Masters in Creative Writing with Distinction from Glasgow University. Find her on Twitter @kerry__byrne.