“Are we in the forest, Mammy?” she said.
“Why yes, we are, love.”
“Aren’t there wolves in the forest?” she said.
“None so fierce as the one we left behind, pet.”
“Can I hold your hand, though, Mammy?” she said.
“Of course you can, sweetie.”
“Are we lost?” she said.
“Not lost enough, my dear.”
“Should I leave a trail so we can find our way home?” she said.
“Best not, darling, for we don’t want home to find us.”
Alyssa Bushell lives and writes at the shore of Lake Huron in southern Ontario. Alyssa’s work is featured in Blank Spaces magazine, as well appearing online in Ellipsis Zine, Reckon Review, and Leon Literary Review, among others. She is currently working on her debut mystery novel, and can often be found baking up new ways to procrastinate. Find her at: @WritesAly or AlyWrites.ca.
The Centifictionist 
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