they never came to tell us til late afternoon having seen sophie first believing he still lived with her and been told to come here to his mum and dads he died in the early hours but there was nothing on him to say who he was I do not see it coming and I am thumped in the head as they said the man my boy was killed in a hit and run and I wretch as I topple over keening and vomit over my knees my man reaches for me weeping a towered deck of cards collapsing I gulp air like a thrashing fish except I don’t care if I die hours tick by rocking my chair backwards forwards on my island but yet my heart still beats cradling the memory of when he was born big blue eyes and blond hair didnt everyone love him didnt that driver know this this question makes my head a spinning top dont notice yet another cigarette or tea peoples faces contort wildly into whooshing sounds deaf to them I spiral into delicious madness a comforting delirious fantasy time tocks on the dark nights garb envelops me through the window as I and the blackness singularly amalgamate but no peace I hold my breath for the first time in this long nights vigil as the orange mist of morning is about to detonate and blind me I can no longer stave it off and raise my head to howl a dirge
(c) Karen Philpott
* Find the site under 'Read This...' in the margin.
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