mango

The head is feels like mush, the only sharp thing is the high pitched hiss in the right ear. There is a smell of ripe mango in the siting room, from the wire fruit bowl of fruit on the tablet piano.
It is a holiday today, outside, the street is silent, but for the sound of the occasional passing car. A rumbling sound of tyres on cobbles, the whirr of the well-silenced engine.
Like so many others, the car drives down the street, the driver realises that it is a dead end when he gets to the church, and returns the way he came. Much of the traffic here is just the result of inattentiveness.

All are in bed. The family is asleep. The son and the wife were up late last night, she watching television, he watching You tube.

Tubular nonsense all.
There is still the strong smell of sweet ripe mango in the air.
And because of the disturbed sleep last night, there is a sore head.
The neighbour had a party, all of his friends shouting and joking.

Last night was nasty.
And according to the weather forecast today will be hot again.
The news read again today, news of the collapsed bridge