Evelyn wakes alone


She turns her face towards the window out through the creeping rose vine
clawed across the latticed frame, the petals casting soft red hue over a grey horizon.

She can hear old Mick barking at the morning, the throaty yapping familiar as it is annoying,
and she pictures the dog straining against the links of chain, muscles tensed eyes wide, biting clouds in half.

From down the hall, she hears Calin stir, his small feet hitting the bare floor boards
with that thumping enthusiasm, and then a pattering tread as he comes to wake her.
She closes her eyes and tucks her smile away, for this is the same game they always play
and Calin loves to think she is a sleepy head still abed as he calls it.

A bundle of warm woollen panama’s leaps upon her and giggled instructions to wake up
are uttered. She wraps her arms around him and draws his shaggy hair against her cheek,
he struggles and grumbles but hugs her back.

Later, as they sit munching slightly burnt toast from the toaster that never quite gets it right,
Calin asks her what they should do today. Evelyn shakes her head slightly and tells
him the world is their oyster to which he replies "How disgusting, oysters are so slimy"

He decides to call Deacon, and after the usual to and fro of who and where, leaves to go over for a play.

Evelyn tells him to behave, and catches the soft edges of his laughter as it trails after him down the road.

She dresses to the music of Sarah Mclachlan, allowing the sad tones to soap her body in foamed
sighs, the water running down her face in streams of cadence. She cries a little, but only a little.


To be continued.....