I Don't Know What Happened - Short Story Teaser

So I am working on some short stories to submit to literary magazines and today I worked that I had started last year and decided to finish. Here’s a little taste.

“What happened to your hand?”

Of course she’d ask. As soon as a pimple or a bruise or some other minuscule abnormality formed on my body, my mom would point it out. It was like she was looking for imperfections on me, about me, all the time. If I just breathed, and answered her calmly, she’d never suspect a thing. Just stick to the script she already has in her head. 

“Carpal tunnel,” I deadpanned. I was working from home now, every weekday with hardly any breaks, so my fingers were bound to get tired and cramp up from time to time (or all the time actually). So it was sort of the truth.  

She eyed me a little longer than I cared for before rattling off all the ways I could prevent carpal tunnel in the first place. I tuned her out because this list could go on and on.