by Antonia Cundy
She took a piece of chewing gum out of her pocket and her molars mulched into its minty juices. She watched the two construction workers on the street below as they cleaned up a spillage of sand. A long line of warm yellow sand looped in a Y-shape in the middle of the grey asphalt. It looked like a yellow brick road, but its sunny promise only went back to its start. The men’s attempts to move the sand weren’t going very well. Each brush of their brooms only widened the road, spreading the golden path into a golden smudge. She heard the yell echo in her head: “BLOT, don’t rub!” The poor men didn’t seem to have a choice. She wondered whether somewhere underneath the men’s feet there was a fat little rat lying on his back, bathing in the sewer’s swill, chuckling to himself as he rested his paws on a furry grey belly stuffed with the crucial corner of a sandbag.