At first I thought it was the police, then Brian, and then after hearing the strange slurping noises, the Morrison's bum. But on sneaking a peek from the corner of the living room curtains, it was actually Marlowe I saw, nosing around in the first window box looking for any scraps of meat I'd left for him. Fuck!

I whipped the curtain back and banged the glass. On seeing me Marlowe dropped down on all fours and made his way excitedly to the front door. I rushed to meet him. On my knees, in the hall, I lifted the letter box and peered out. At first I saw just the fluffy underside of his neck, then a wet black nose and then a bright pink tongue which came darting through and washed across my left eye. I pulled back. “Go away Marlowe!” I hissed, “I Can't feed you today. Shoo!” Of course, when his head raised and I once again saw the white fur on his neck, I knew exactly what was coming: “Wooof!

Not quite sure what to do, I opened the door a quarter and pulled him inside. He came in easy and just sat to attention in the hall with his two gorgeous eyes looking straight up at me. Almost immediately the apartment felt warmer and for the moment the emptiness that had manifested it since the accident disappeared. “Come on, boy!” I said, playfully slapping the side of head, “Let's get that belly of yours full.”

I sat on the kitchen chair and watched pleasantly as Marlowe wolfed down a tin and a half of Rabbit and gravy dog chunks. His tail was wagging all the while and between mouthfuls he'd turn his head to me and lick little pieces of jelly from around his chops. When he had finished he wandered up, nosed my legs apart, then collapsed down and curled up on the floor with his head resting on his paws. I looked down at his breathing, the gentle rising and falling of his body and soon I fell asleep myself.


  1. Marlowe: moving closer and closer to his destiny.

    Just as well those bloody remains are wrapped in cling film. Otherwise (a) Marlowe would have scoffed them or (b) They would have grown into little John-Triffids.

    But think of the fun you'd have with THEM.

    I do hope Brian doesn't have any info John spilled that even you don't know about. Like the existence of long lost brothers other than Luke (no doubt called Matthew and Mark). Be awful if they turned up, preaching their gospels.

    Not that I want to increase your sense of paranoia.

    It occurs to me that Verity might be a bit put out that she's not the tragic centre of attraction anymore.

    I'd hate it if she did anything to regain the spotlight.

  2. Abigail, some of those things that occur to you may be very warm. And, you almost stumbled across something quite big in your comment, but I think it's maybe just passed you by. I will not tell you what (even if you ask) as it will come out soon anyway.

    Brian having inside info, you know, I never even gave it a thought, but yes, you're right so I'll find a way to use that.

    I'm getting rid of evidence tonight... just writing up my exploits now. X

  3. 'I will not tell you what (even if you ask)'

    It's been a long time since anybody's been that brave!

    I sort of miss being challenged.

    REALLY challenged.

    The waspy barbs of my nephew just wash over me like holy water sprinkled on an alter boy.

  4. It's especially brave considering the form you've got on me! X


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