Sunday, 1 February 2009

At home on Sunday

He sits and has his tea,

a nice salad,
seeing if he can taste the difference.
His wife of thirty years
hangs from the ceiling with
a rope made from his best tie,
brought for his birthday.
Her swaying in the breeze makes
a creaking nose which comforts him
as he sips a freshly brewed cup of tea.
Her face is white rather
then blue
No dancing feet or
tongue bursting for air.
Moving away from the table,
he wonders if today
will be the day
that neighbours

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Welcome and thanks for dropping in. I'll pop by yours by and by.

This blog was inspired by First 50 words where you freewrite from a single word prompt. I use random words or images to create flash fiction in formats ranging from twitter postcards to short short stories.