We were halfway through the fish course
when my hand went limp,
spoon slipping from my slack fingers
and clattering onto the floor.
'George?' The Mayor's wife's smile fading
like ice on a heated windscreen.
'What's the matter?'
All through the starter I'd known
something was missing -
that queer sense of absence
like removing a heavy backpack
after a long hike,
a lightness, like the final instant
before flying.
'I put them on the roof of my car,'
I said numbly,
'it was just while I unlocked the door.'
And the mayor whispered something
that sounded like:
'Kevin McAllister.'
Well, I'd say you're way off rock bottom yet, Timbo. In the wider context this might turn out to be top ten. That backpack image is rather lovely. Onwards, fair work horse - see what lies beneath the bottom of the barrel!
ReplyDeleteJ
"The Mayor's wife's smile fading
ReplyDelete"like ice on a heated windscreen."
Nice. Wish I understood the last line, though...