Julia and the Shark

That's another thing about words: there's space in them. They change according to whose mouth they're coming out of. Sometimes they change so much in mine they become something else entirely, but Dad says these are called lies.

I like how everything echoes with everything else if you listen hard enough

Panic poured into the space where my certainty had been, hot and sharp.

Dad's listening became loud, you know how that happens when someone is really concentrating and you can feel the white noise of their attention.

He tailed off, but I already knew what he was talking about, the way feelings get bunched up under you're rib cage and tear out all spiky.

...which is still not a plot twist I saw coming.

Remember at the beginning of this story, how I said I lost my mum? Really, what I meant was I lost the idea of Mum. The idea that she was perfect and invincible and always right. But as well as the shark, I found the real Mum, with her complications and tangles and tears, and I love her just as much as ever. More, maybe. I told you to watch out for words, they are tricksy.