Basket Case

Basket case

My mother had a basket just like that. Filled it with apples, herbs, linen. SHIT! I roll clumsily from my side back to a kneel, settle my left knee with care. Must have done it as I stumbled on the steps. His grip was gentle when he picked me up, patient. Probably happens a lot.

Garlic, smoke and spittle from the crowd. They've stopped their black-toothed jeering now. Behind their sweaty faces pillars of smoke stand against a clear sky. Beyond those, a harbour. Beyond the harbour, England. Drawn along that path, the cord that holds me steady.

Alive, I could not hope to make her happy. My misery infects. By this, I bring her pain again but a future, hope. For him, too.

Shuffling boots behind me, a shadow across the basket. Above, a mechanical hiss, a clunk. My wig is caught, drawn back.

Eyes closed, I see a child bringing her flowers, laughing. A wedding. He at his work. Together by the fire. Her smile swaddles me. His smile... fixed. A false note? Night, her cowering,  weight against a door, child screaming. Eyes open, the cord sags.

Shadow hand pulls shadow rope, wicker creaks.