he was like any other nasty old man
- smug - his waistline at his breasts -
a wife skittering at his pleasure
but there was something nastier -
a certain glint in his eye - an arrogance -
glistening like the whiskers briskly shaven
'they made me build roads' he laments -
chewing on a kaiser roll - tongue lapping-
moist bread churning on his gums
'ten years they worked me like a slave -
murderers get less' - the wife interrupts him
with attempted good humour
'oh don't mind him' she says
- offering me a glass of cola -
'leave the boy alone - it's not his fault'
the half chewed bread slides down his dry throat -
before the adam's-apple has come to rest
the other half of the soup dipped roll goes into his mouth
'they were different times' continues his wife
prizing the lid from a decorated biscuit tin -
- I take gingerbread - lay it on my knee
'do you have grandparents' he asks
I sip my drink and nod at the absurd question
- how else would I be here -
for some reason this pleases him
The Blue Book
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