What can I give you?


“Real coffee? Tea? Peppermint, camomile, earl grey? Food perhaps. Hot soup? Ham sandwiches?”

Yes, Yes, please.
Everything.
And ten marlboro light.
Slip them into my bag and I promise not to catch your eye.
Touch my arm with your warm, living fingers.
Tell me that the end is a beginning.
That the world is not this corridor of fifteen doors, that my lover my friend is not behind the last door on the left.

Bring me a deckchair on a beach an evening of jazz the last rays of sun on a pub bench clean clothes ironed sheets tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow.

Take away today.

And thank you for asking.



* Alison Woodhouse says “I've been part of Vanessa's Workhouse for the last eight months. I've got a novel taking up most of my writing time when I'm not teaching English at a secondary school.”