Dreamt a new city. Only parks and roads, nothing else. Her bench sitting proud at the top of the hill. Autumn yellow light flickers, a dog barks, she sits to read and nothing will ever bother her again.
Her job is meaningless and she does not have the strength to lurch to another one. She flops on the sofa, entangles her thoughts, watches one film or another, cavorts with the notion of another life, swtiches the tv off and goes to sleep.
They can sniff your foreignness, you don’t need to open
your mouth, they know. They sneer and you know you are a frog from another pond
never quite here. She goes out only at night, when the shadows merge the living
with the dead.