Monday, December 1, 2025

In Bed


Our nighties crackled

green sparks under the sheets,

smelling of Nan’s fresh ironing.


We hid.

The voices thundered

in the room below.


“It’s just the television.”

She hugged me tight.

Yes, just the television.


“They should turn it down.”

I hugged her tighter.

They never do.


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