In secret earth, a key, prisoner in a bone cage. In the hands of a child, a lock, sitting in a tree above.
When the exhausted animal can run no more, it slumps, lathered & shaking. He nears it, panting. A Whispered prayer, then a blade.
The spade bites & me old man stomps it down wi' 'is boot.
'Pass us a trap, lad.'
One down, five-bloody-million to [email protected]
They are in my head. They move & I collapse to the floor, spewing gibberish & foaming. There is no cure but this pistol. @130story
Terrible murders. My case.
It is he, I know; the killer. I can tell...
I must reach him first. I must make good my promise. @130story
The pack splits, trying to separate the exhausted calf but now the herd stops, encircling the youngster with a wall of angry beef. @130story
Her voice again, tinny & flat, demands more wine & a kiss. A pause & I remember that kiss, sweet & light & free. Before cancer. @130story
I lay still, newspaper clad & cold,
a bacon scrap in hand.
He is so timid this fox, so thin...
I wake from dreams of dogs, hungry. @130story