the alley outside. look down upon it from the first floor, lit by the sunbeams, every damp patch on the wall of the house opposite showing.
cars rumble on the cobbles.
clocks tick.
It is saturday, nine in the morning, and it is cold. but the sunlight is yellow.
A warm colour.
The cat is calling in the other room, the kitchen.
It wants food, it has grown larger and heavier
The weekend, long again, monday is off, a day for the extra hours spent at work.
The son is up now, and he feeds the cat.
cars rumble on the cobbles.
clocks tick.
It is saturday, nine in the morning, and it is cold. but the sunlight is yellow.
A warm colour.
The cat is calling in the other room, the kitchen.
It wants food, it has grown larger and heavier
The weekend, long again, monday is off, a day for the extra hours spent at work.
The son is up now, and he feeds the cat.
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