The light’s coming in misty through the lace curtains and her son comes back from the shop with a plastic bag, hands me a beer, hands me the bottle opener saying the bottle opener is a Soviet miracle because it opens cans, too. It looks like some kind of weapon.
And oh dear, have you heard about your auntie? She’s died, and so has your uncle. Terrible, just terrible. And did you know that this the raspberries are actually still alive this Autumn so you can eat them off the bush without maggots. She was 70, I’m 72. Pauses, wipes her eye on borrowed time in a long sad moment.… [continue reading]