It's Still Life

It’s what makes people say Back in my day, or I remember when, while forgetting that things were crap back then, back when a proper rain splattered mud as high as your thighs, and you’d ride your bike to school through rain and sleet, snow and hail just like the postie did, and the rear tyre of your bike sprayed a muddy streak up your back, and the ducks seemed content to pouter in puddles by the front of the outhouse, snapping their beaks at your ankles as you raced head-down against the weather for a pee, and that small red fox that week after week snatched hens from the roost at night until the dogs cornered the fox in the outhouse and tore it to pieces, those particular dogs never being allowed in the house, they were hunting dogs who kept protein on the table after the last remaining hen was traumatised and never laid eggs again, but still my sister and I continued to say grace at mealtime and thank the Lord for the food on our plate. But anyway, I remember when we were first family on the street to have a TV, and everyone came around to see it, as if we’d just brought home a newborn baby.

Breakfast silence
A blade of honey across toast
Radio static

NaPoWriMo Day 14: Your life as the opening scene of a movie. Image from Getty Museum, LA. Image Title: The Ducks, Artist/Maker: Louis Fleckenstein (American, 1866 – 1943), Date: 1907–1943. Public Domain.. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting #glopowrimo #napowrimo on Twitter