Thursday, 25 September 2008

After dinner

Like an opportunist pet, left in the quiet kitchen alone, he turned into silent scavenger. He couldn't resist. After all, they had left the door open. Sucking on abandoned chicken bones, mopping up the last of the coleslaw from the bowl with a ragged crust of bread, scraping up the moist lemon cake crumbs in his pressing clawing fingers, and draining the last dregs of every wine bottle into his upturned desperate mouth, tonight he consumed more than he had in the last two weeks. 

Instant drunken euphoria. Life pulsing through his chilled veins again. He stumbled out into the wet garden. As he pushed through the dark raining hedge and emerged into a haunting moonlit field of corn stubble, he felt blessed.