"Last night we picnicked on the top step of our small apartment. It is a farm house block of four apartments but the building is only two stories high. There are eleven steps up to our solid green metal door. A black wrought iron set of railings stop us plunging to the gravel below. Beneath the little washing line we'd strung across two corners of the upper railings with our hand washed laundry pegged out to dry, we sat and tore apart country Cobb bread, munched and slurped our way through juicy fresh pears and my missus demonstrated that she hadn't lost the ways of her youth. She can still slug down red wine straight from the bottle neck! "
From the Deep
2 months ago