each morning early, i feed the cat.


a sachet with jelly.


packaging straight to the dustbin, outside.




in pyjamas i step the slate, feel the air, watch the sky



swallow the bats whole.


later, when dressed, and booted, i smiles

at the bare foot print on the step.


during the day the others come foraging,

through the flap, what can I do?


first one is flimsy, timid

trespass. a shadow.


the other bruiser ; black bully.


bold, hissing wildly.




each evening, I feed the cat again.

take the package to the bin again.




one hundred words.









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