Sunday 3rd January



On a high stool at a high shelf in the window of a different cafe.
Teapot, teacup, saucer, porridge, tiny pot of honey & a black
plastic spoon. The girl behind the counter starts stirring the
porridge with the spoon without wiping it, pushes it towards me,
smiling. I watch the black stump disappear into the oatie swamp,
hoping the scalding water will have killed off winter’s finger-vermin.


2 thoughts on “Sunday 3rd January

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