• Vol. 02
  • Chapter 11

A weekend away

Summer was late. thankfully.
We knew he would not be pleased at our catch.
Forgotten pleas for ice-cream.
We only asked once.

She was impassive. Prone.
Lolling on sand with fag in hand.
Green spotted scarf holding curls to ransom.
Handsome from a distance, still.

He was disengaged. Distant.
Neck aching from delayed pleasure.
Listening at keyholes was never wise.
We slept on the stairs.

We were young. Hungry.
Daylight delivered rain sodden dreams.
Of minnows and magic
Perhaps a ride on the train.

Sunday was heavy. Laden.
With guilty eyes he left early.
The bacon still warm on his plate.
I asked for more.

A slapped hand. Answered.
We looked at our plates.
Fixed each pupil to the willow pattern.
Burning a hole in the morning.


A weekend away

Train was late. Sluggish.
Herded into second class.
She was clipped in her instruction.
No toffees for us today.