Spilt Milk

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.

One thought on “Spilt Milk

  1. constancebourg says:

    I love this piece. Good use of language. My favourite sentences are: ‘molars mulched into its minty juices’, ‘its sunny promise only went back to its start’ and of course ‘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.’ I’m sharing this on Twitter and reading your other piece right now!

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s