kim


Kipling’s Kim comes to life of a Sunday afternoon with beer as, outside, an ugly overweight man wearing a shirt that is too small even though it is large walks past with his beautiful wife and I wonder what their story is. Is he rich or is she just a good person who is with a man she loves in spite of the way that he looks? Ultimately it matters not. They have each other and all I have is people who run away and back into the arms of the ones they claimed to be sick of. I’ve sent a few messages this weekend but I have not had any replies. With others I have not even bothered. And yet the cats stroll the house like it is a palace and I am some form of king who shares in their reign. If only they knew that I reign over nothing… that I can’t even get a reply to a message from the ones I love… the ones who wish I would fall of the face of the planet.

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