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.
Last days.
No more crying.
Copyright owned by Jay Cool
The Silly-Savvy Salopian in Suffolk: read, believe and write ... 