November Love.
He was around thirty, dressed in a grey suit, but he had no arms, (accident) zip open, a man desperate and drunk, came into my café wanted a beer with a straw, that’s what I gave him. He needed a pee I had things to attend to in the kitchen, a woman, his age, said she was a nurse, helped him; back from the loo he looked respectable. In her company he was more at ease and joked about his plight, asked the time had to take a ferry home as he lived on one of the islands. Ten to nine the nurse followed him down to the docks, she didn’t return; but took the ferrytoo, I think, and became his arms, lover and caring wife. She had left a plastic bag behind it was full of crumbled up bread and stale cakes meant for the ducks; I went to the park next morning and fed them crumbs of love