jump to navigation

Night Prose 2 October 2013

Posted by Dr Moose in Life, Prose.
Tags: , , ,
trackback

In dark I return, to quiet house as wife multi-tasks, playing on laptop, watching TV programmes I would not choose. I have worked, and she has earned it. Scant conversation, and reminder that daughter’s friend is staying over (didn’t I know before?), both in spare room, and so access to many books, and laptop, is blocked.

Quietly I climb the stairs, and peek in. Curtains unclosed allow but little light, as cars pass, rumbling. Sleep breathes from bed, prompting fatherly smile. Then a glimmer, the tiniest glow, and as eyes adjust I see, bare outlined, back of daughter’s head, and know that phone, much-cursed, why-did-I-buy-it, mobile phone is once more breaking night’s curfew. Ear-buds will my voice obscure and guest should not be wakened, so in quiet despair I turn away, dreading another daughter’s unwakening dawn.

And yet, when morning comes, rain-washed, a pleasant surprise awaits: Amenable, awake daughter. A morning truce, hard truths delayed, until sullenness or frustration break the ceasefire.

Advertisements

Comments»

No comments yet — be the first.

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 )

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: