Prose Toast : Hallux Valgus

  Hannah snap-shut the fat man’s suitcase, straightened up and moved toward  the dank underlit hallway.
In tow, holding on oh so tight, a small slender child.
 Thelma
 pulled the child’s hat down over the little girl’s eyes , and coaxed her to cross to the dining-room.
Two large suitcases sat together In the hallway:One had a train ticket. Attached to its handle : written there ,the address of Benjamin Button , undertaker and poet.

Entering the small vestibule she saw her sister,Hilda , shredding cuttings of the Forensic Fortnightly into a bedpan.

Thelma was fair of head … but dark of soul.

The rain spat against the shuttered porch windows.

The air thick with the smell of cabbage sauce, burning wood and body odour.

 

 
Slowly she slithered towards the child
Small group of girls
Long sensitive feelers trembling
left and right
Silent
Always Slow and set on her prey :
The little blonde girl with azure
Blue eyes
The little one at the end
Sitting cross-legged on the bench.
Slow sure and silent
Closer
Close very close
She could smell something
Zniff zniff zzniff Orrible. Orrible
What an awful stench
She turned………. Hilda went over to the first and felt for the pulse
Nothing ! Good !
The three children lay in a broken row
Hair tangled, all limp and lifeless.
The youngest , blue-lipped and with her left knee bent double.
The little one flat on her back, legs apart and her  hands clasped together.
The third was on her knees, head between her thighs, long cascades of hair across the floor.
Thick black blood covered her shoulders and had spread across the kitchen linoleum,
  “Mmmmmm…….. what now….?”
 She turned and saw Thelma walk toward the downstairs toilet guiding the little girl in her pink party dress …
 

Burnt

I am an Amateur Gynaecologist with a love of Maidenhair Ferns and a fondness for interpreting Vermeer's Paintings as Metaphors ...

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