A white house – more so a shed – with weeping willows all the way around
Then, a rocky pavement outside shakes owing to the harrowing sound of one such farmer’s black wellies – sellotaped to his feet
Falling in upon the couch, he proceeds to flick through the clapped out telly ’til, finally, landing upon a relatively dirty channel
Much further on
Eyes widened – thick as a thief, managing to steal everything and nothing all at once
So very lonely it really is barely describable
He tries to smile, recalling his wife – she the one who always managed to bring him his late-evening Ploughman’s sandwich
Seemingly, at least, forever wedged between his high-school sweetheart and another far more enticing kind of woman altogether
In one way or other

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