August 2009
3 posts
the parable of the bastard
I awoke with a start, the courtyard was alive with rats. The dog was barking franticly and yet my wife and daughter slept. The rats were fearless, chewing at the bungs of water barrels, pissing at the end of the dog’s tether. Clamouring up the sides of spindly trees, against the chewed moon to make off with the speckled eggs they find there. One unfortunate rat had fallen in the fountain,...
