Lady
The lady has smell, mint. I run around her dress to touch metal bits. Snip my fingers. It is a wonderful time to giggle and spin. Underneath the window, next to sill. She laughs at Pinder, big moustache. Tall man, big arms. I want tea from her hand; hand of hers in hair mine. Pinder takes her out.
On lawn through window. I been there. Lady is swinging with Pinder on tire. Cars coming, presents. Not for me gifts. Climb on sill and stare. Daddy hurrying to cut grass. Lady swinging, getting off, everyone comes to her. Many cars. All dresses and suits.
In kitchen ladies cooking. Pot spitting, knife cutting. Darting under counter, between legs. Slippers slap floor. I want lady to come and take me for a nap. She can walk in and pick up. I did once, fall asleep. She said she did too but woke up first. After that, night. Fire smells. Tree smells. Mud. Play and get dirty, her feet, all of me. Water fall on me, she says.
House so full. But I am fast.
Lady in here somewhere. By stairs. Pinder too. Perfect time to lean against her. Feel her fingers in hair mine. Metal bits of sari on my cheek. Go to sleep dirty child. She laughs. Picks up. Touch her neck. Shawl over me. Go to sleep, she says. Go sleep.
Reminds me of a play I saw a couple of years ago through the dogs point of view. Mind you, your writing was cleaner and lighter than the play. But I have to ask, what are the metal bits?
Oh sorry. She’s wearing a sari, so usually there’s some metal decoration attached in the fabric.
Ah, learned something new!