Beth Kendall
That Time of Day
The flat has bottled and chilled the smell
of last night’s roast chicken. Inside the cold oven,
the carcass nestles in its hardened juices.
I walk across the long, narrow kitchen to open a window.
The lino floor has adopted the barbed shadow of my dragon plant.
I watch it for a moment, not moving. I hear the sound
of conversation coming from the flat beneath me. The voices stop.
I watch the clock, two minutes pass and still no talking, nothing
but the sound of the clock ticking, and the cars passing on the road
at the front of the building. You will not be home for hours.
Beth Kendall was born in 1981 and lives in Herefordshire. She has recently completed a MA in Creative Writing at Bath Spa University. This is her first publication in a national magazine.
Page(s) 74
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