I tiptoe into Papa’s room, the tub of ointment in my sleeve. I can’t read its label, but Mama says it’s a cure-all, and that’s exactly what I need. Papa tosses under a blanket of stale air, his favorite nightshirt torn and yellow. A southern bullet claimed his arm in Virginia, so I dab some ointment on his shoulder first. His eyes dart beneath his eyelids as I apply the rest to his sweat-drenched brow, filling the trenches war left across his face. “Cure it all: his nightmares, his temper, his pain,” I pray until the candle flickers and dies.
Elizabeth Nettleton grew up on the Sunshine Coast, Australia, and now lives in Oxfordshire, England. She has been an avid reader and writer since she was a child, and particularly enjoys writing dark and speculative fiction. Her short stories and drabbles have been included in The Sirens Call eZine, Trembling with Fear, Short Fiction Break, and several anthologies by Eerie River Publishing.