When i got there
she was on her back & her sister
who’s like eighty herself
wasn’t much help. We pulled her
up but she died & after that
i thought about it, her stiff
board, the flaked bits of her
skirt & cardigan, the stink of
dog, how heavy she was.
I’d never seen her room before
or thought of it
on the other side of my wall.
good stuff but I reckon it would be better if you dropped the last line
you’re right. I had reservations about that line – ‘Where i lived’ – heavy-handed, being a sentence on it’s own, especially; it wants to add that last dramatic touch. thanks Dean
thank you John
Powerful; the harshness of death in life.