Castellations
This morning, a
chicken stole into our house via the broken cat flap. I cornered it in the bathroom
and carried it back outside. I think that Cat had ripped off the duct tape but
not that she had expected the appearance of the chicken. Cat and Dog both sat
in the kitchen with saucer eyes, aghast at the interloping.
Cold and bright, the day pops up, takes me to the beach. Two horses gallop
about; as many dogs as people; seabirds and crows steady in a bracing onshore
blast; no chickens. Dog follows her tennis ball through waves and pools and the
toothsome castellations of rock. My eyes follow Dog: over a row of molars and
juts of incisor and around the chunky buttress. Press my feet over soft sand.
The beach graduates from fine particles to rockfall slabs. Small white pebbles:
the teeth of the drowned: salt polished, scatter evenly throughout.
Comments
You should make a necklace of seateeth, Lily. If anyone could do it, it'd be you.
The chicken was an odd start to the day, Susan: amusing too but I am pleased Mr put a new cat flap in!