He sits on the porch, cigarette in
hand and a wolf hound at his feet. Battered boots, jeans, and a checked
flannel shirt. All of which have seen better days. He seems to
slouch in his chair, one hand absently rubbing the ear of his dog, but he has
an air of alertness about him. The way he looks out up the road, as if he
is waiting for someone, the way his feet are planted on the floor as if he is
ready to leap up at any moment. He looks up now, a slight noise in the
bushes before him, bright blue eyes gaze intently into the garden, salt and
pepper hair grown just a little too long to be conventional hanging over his
ears and collar. His skin is the colour and texture of tanned leather,
making you think of too many hours working out in the hot sun, and his mouth is
full.
A smile erupts onto his face as a
small black and white cat struts out of the bush with a mouse in its jaws.
"Hercules, my Lion what have you brought me" booms the man with
a deep laughing voice. The dog
raises its head, rolls its eyes and goes back to sleep. The cat tries to chirp a meow but the mouse
gets in the way and a muffled squeak is all D hears. “Well now, you had better stay out here with
me and old Blue here to eat that. You
know how Lucy and Emily will scream bloody murder if you take that inside.”
The cat hops up onto D’s lap and
noisily eats his mouse; D scratching at
his ear and watching up the road.
Waiting for Julia to come home.
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