Miri

“He always had to be different!” Father cursed, glaring at his feet as he kicked at a pebble.

Mum sighed. “Yes, different,” she murmured gazing at the puffs of clouds, unbound above her.

His nose was running again. Tears threatened and she swallowed. She didn’t know what to do anymore. The constant care, endless worry and sleepless nights had left her worn out and frazzled.

‘Snap Snap’ went the fingers, accompanied by an arrogant tilt to the jaw and a challenge in her eyes.

At that moment I really hated this woman.

Glancing back she wondered where Kate had got to. Kate, her beautiful perfect sister. Successful business woman, loving wife, doting mother. Kate had always come first at everything.

He was like a rabid wolf, all caged animalistic power and snarling dribble. She eyed him speculatively. Dribble was good, useful even, but not on her face.

She shifted, rustling silk, and dug out a cigarette. The detective squinted at the flare. Ruby red lips and powdered porcelain skin flashed briefly beneath a flirty black fedora.

The only survivor was pecking through the bricks, remarkably unconcerned by all the death and destruction. He imagined she had once been white but now sported a dusty grey coating.

I took it to the curiosity shop
The one on the corner, gilded and gleaming with greed.
It sat on a shelf
Near a ladder of books with reptilian covers
And a candlestick.

The first time
I played my hurt
On a violin with one string
Slightly out of tune
Wringing out tears

My witchy feet
Beat a teasing tattoo
On deep drums of longing
Dancing under tables up trouser legs

And when fairies make wishes, bubbles encased in the finest gold filigree take to the sky

He loved watching the daily battle of jumper versus breasts, with the jumper always giving up somewhere above her tanned flat belly.

She hated Sundays, hated the big family roast, hated that she was forced to eat a dead animal, hated the inevitable arguments with her parents and squabbles with her brothers

“But ‘e said she’d ‘eard it!” Mrs Rollims’ significant bulk adopted an indignant air. “And she over‘eard ‘er brother, the Reverend, directly! And ‘e was whispering…you know…suspicious like”

When the lights went down, the little white lies started.

No, I don’t mind doing it in the dark.

“Talk to the hand, Mum, the face ain’t listening!” Ben yelled and held up a palm, thrusting his nose in the air.

As she drove she wondered who would be on the menu tonight. A fat businessman over excited with his winnings? A greying golfer missing his wife? A Mafioso taking time out? Or maybe one of the girls.

Fred grinned as Norm stepped up to bat. The annual septegenarian cricket match was off to a great start….

She was so special. Whenever I opened the intricate silver box she’d rise from red velvet to twirl and twinkle, arms spread wide in a comforting embrace…..

And on the sixth day, God created Man. Before dropping Man into the lush garden below, God paused for a moment.