Recently
my mother was out walking one day when she saw a cat, dead by the
kerb, that had it seems been hit by a car. Distressed, she turned to
the nearby house and spoke to the man living there who was digging his
garden.
"Would you please bury the cat, to save the kids that are about to be let out of school"
He looked at the cat and looked at her.
"Piss off you stupid old woman" he said "I'm not putting that in my garden".
My mother is
small and he was
quite large, she thought twice then told him what she knew.
"I lived in this house during
the blitz and could tell you a thing or two.
Under
that sage lies the bones of a
deer that we slaughtered
and butchered right there. Beneath that
beech tree is Maudy
Kitchener's
placenta, along with the
stillborn child that she bore,
and just here by the gate we buried a man, or rather the leg and the
flesh that we found in that tree, when a
buzz-bomb hit number
23."
She took his shovel, scooped up the dead cat, and handed it back to him.