And

By Summer Rose

Photography by Jack Halpin

And then she phones you to tell you

about her new job, in an office or a pub

(you couldn’t quite catch it)

and a ball of dust dances along

the countertop and reminds you

of your childhood, when you were little,

and you had a cat with a silly name

who would gag up fat balls of slimy hair,

and you laugh because how silly is it,

that the cat is dead now

and the kitchen is dusty

and the house is old

and you are old

and here she is in her unforgiving truth,

telling you things that you can’t quite catch