Posts Tagged ‘Night’

Aunt Ruth

April 14, 2017

On the threshold of visible, a paler sort of shadow in darker air, solid with a slight sheen – that was her under the seat of a chair, behind the pine cupboard in the middle of the room.

Two cats hunting for the first time in the screaming stench of mice, sending round eyes flashing to every surface, ears swiveling, whiskers angled in a fury. Their long bodies stretch up, their soft paws spring and land a silent thud, ever moving, the first time knowing real work.

Aunt Ruth was my grandmother’s aunt, the bulbous heavy turned legs of her table once more fill their own meaning.

Cat, in the tactile silence of night time. Petrified wooden balusters, bent laths, the chairs of my childhood night creepings, though no fear, now that my mission is my own and I am in the employ of my two hunting cats.

The seven ghost cats of 1929, murdered by drowning in Aunt Ruth’s boiler, a crime against the beaded dress of my grandmother, Aunt Ruth calling their names, where is dear Putta?

My cats meet their lives, their purpose, alight in the legs of the table, in landing on the table, in sitting under the table with twitching tail.


March 8, 2017

The minutes pass, and through the wind I board the bus and pass the points again, carried behind a woman with a cough.

Slowly through traffic queues – the fading afternoon…

By the time I have the dog in the fields, an hour and a half have passed, and I am making a film in the dusk in negative, making the sky orange and heavy, still thinking about my own faulty actions.

The bare oak trees are white like x-rays of lungs, the dog has her black and white patches reversed and looks not much different except for her tail tip being a black flag instead of a white one.

I make a different sort of  film pointing forwards instead of down, like some white shadowed planet.

Nearly two hours have passed, as I raise the camera up to the branches of the oak, they sing a resounding note, that flux clangs in my brain, my chest and ears;

The film is lost;

And in a moment my fears and punishments echo … as death reverses!

And the oak branches, are black again.


February 13, 2017

At 4.30 am my alarm sounded and immediately I went to the phone to wake him up, downstairs, I made him tea and put the packed lunch that she had made for him on the counter top. I phoned him again at 4.45 but no answer, at 4.50 he arrived with two bags of washing. He drank the tea. At 4.55 the phone rang, a pre- recorded female voice said: “Your taxi is outside”. He tipped instant coffee into his travel mug and poured in water from the kettle and milk from the fridge. At 5.00 he picked up his rucksack and gave me a one-armed hug. I bid him a nice day then he left the house. I closed the door and wanted to close the thick curtain across it but feared he may come back if something was wrong or missing so I looked through the blind to see the taxi leave then I closed the curtain, put off the light and went back to bed.

At 8.00 am I heard the phone ringing, I got up and listened to a voice message which was him saying someone needed to research his new phone as it is not working. I arranged for her to do it, leaving the handset by her half sleeping body. I went back to bed. I woke later not knowing the time. I put my jeans on over the trousers I was wearing in bed, two pairs of socks, then enclosed myself in a large hoodie that had once belonged to my eldest son when he was 14, this over the tee shirt and two jumpers I had been wearing for several days without taking them off at all. I also stuffed my feet into my trainers and descended the stairs amidst the two circling cats who wanted their breakfast.

Entering the kitchen, I guessed it might be 11.30 am but the wall clock looked alarmingly like 4 pm, which turned out to be 1.20 pm. Either way, it was much too late but the sun was bright.