The smell of sleeping mouths hanging wide open; damp fumes spreading.
A pair of shoes with black melted plastic soles sizzling next to the fire.
A panting beast – it’s dreams interrupted with the occasional snore – with bottom parked on singed shoes.
A pair of red ankles emerging from beneath the dog’s belly.
A rug with a hideous green-geometrical edge pattern, filled in with brown-stained flowers.
A glass-fronted, saliva-sprayed and finger-smudged, orange-tinged bookcase – crammed full with
Catherine Cookson and her friends.
A ‘Mallen Litter, cursed with a white streak, taking comfort from ‘Poldark’, and bookmarked forever
with ‘Our Daily Bible Readings’.
A dying arthritic dog with loose bowels, yellow fangs and bad breath called Skip.
No more crying.
Copyright owned by Jay Cool
Published by The Silly-Savvy Salopian
Freelance writer and descendant of the cave dweller and outlaw, Humphrey Kynaston. Banished from Shropshire for my eccentricity, I have made my home in Suffolk. I write poetry, short stories, travel journals, comedy gig reviews and non-fiction articles. My wish is to write my way back into the heart of my birth land. All writing commissions (and free holidays in Shropshire!) considered.
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