Dirty Laundry*

“Get out of bed and sort that washing out,” the panther says, breathing into my face.  His breath smells of rotten meat. It’s 5.30pm and I’m trying, and failing to achieve my afternoon sleep. “I’m not doing it,” I tell him.  He looks appalled and turns away from me, waving his tail.  He gazes out […]

The Killing Pool*

Sitting on sofa, in turquoise towel (not mine), paralysed by indecision, exhaustion and torpor.  Need to: 1.  Wash all the towels: this one; my mint green one which Seb used when I quite clearly said “you can use the bright blue one”; my hand towels which keep drenching in night sweat. 2.  Put on a […]