The thing was.
To focus on the plate.
That, was the thing.
The smell, the shapes, the promise of that hot food.
The escape it represented.
Two sausages.
A pile of fresh cooked chips.
The tang of (too much) salt and vinegar.
The splash of (toxic) red tomato sauce.
Slicing into a salt, sauce and vinegar soaked sausage.
Then, it didn’t matter.
The cold wind, the salty sea breeze.
The acrid smell of the Pirelli factory.
The smell of fear.
That didn’t matter.
The scary thoughts and bad dreams.
That didn’t matter.
What mattered was not wanting the plate to be empty.
To place the knife and fork on the plate.
And to walk again back outside.
With them.
That’s what mattered.
(for wordpress writing 101 – day ten)
andy townend 
Oooooo, I like this one. Lots of character and bits to keep my eye looking about. Excellent, Andy!
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Thank you Mitch, much appreciated!!
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Love this response to the prompt… Relatively few words yet so evocative
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Thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it!
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Reblogged this on William Chasterson.
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Great verse, but now I’m hungry…. 😉
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Wow… I love it. This is pretty good 🙂
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Thank you!!
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A great mystery in this piece. Excellent!
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Thank you Joy!
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Touching… and very much so…
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thank you, and very much appreciated…
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Definitely like this lots!
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Thank you Lois!
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This is the one English thing I can’t get behind. Vinegar. On chips. And on sausage. 😝
But, this response is beautiful and poetic. I want you to stay inside with the salt and vinegar!!
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Vinegar on sausage is collateral damage….and thank you dj!
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LOL!
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i found that slightly haunting hehe x
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Thank you…because it is a haunting memory…
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