The Devil's Work

by Mark Edwards

would come today, that there was nothing I could do about it. All I could do was hope, pray, that today’s treatment would be psychological. A test. Questions. I can’t face anything else, not today. Not the hose. Not the belt. Here they come: the footsteps. Slow but steady. He comes into the bedroom and orders me to follow

squeak. On the surface of the trolley is a leather pouch. He unfolds it and I see what’s inside. Acupuncture needles, handles the colour of dried blood, their sharp tips shining in the

moves towards me, licking his dry lips.

paid worker again. The last time she’d stood here at this time of the morning she’d been eight months pregnant with Daisy, wearing a little badge that said ‘Baby on Board’, excited and terrified about being a mother. Now she wore a fitted

whirl of conflicting emotions spun inside her as the train rattled and lurched from station to station. You’re starting the job you’ve wanted your whole life. But what if I’ve forgotten everything and am exposed as a fraud? This is it, your chance to be fulfilled and productive