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Wheelchair – Part Three
He was glaring now. His smile still present but his eyes told the truth of his rage. As he advanced, I gripped my chair, unsure of what else I could really do. It was time to play. I heard him behind me, his fingernails rapping against the handles of the wheelchair. “Time to play.” I…
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Wheelchair – Part Two
There I was, face to face with the clown. He never stopped smiling. His beady little eyes bore into me and his grip was tight on the chair. It was like he had just teleported in front of me, this otherworldly thing, this evil, terrifying thing. “Are you ready to play?” He asked, a drop…
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Wheelchair – Part One
I’m used to people touching my wheelchair without asking. People will coo “Just popping past!” as they yank me from a conversation to move me out of their way, or will start pushing me at crossings, because I suppose they think my arms aren’t capable of getting me and the chair across the street. It…
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Sincerely, Jennifer x 