• Friendship

    Just a Piece of Furniture

    He sat on me every morning with his black coffee and newspaper, every afternoon with his cheese sandwich and lemonade, and every evening to watch the six o’clock news. He read to me, stories of adventure and wonder. He talked to me when the loneliness grew heavy and thick like a raincloud. He sang to me, sombre lyrics, jolly lyrics. Some rare days we didn’t see each other at all. He was my companion, and I was his. One afternoon, after a few bites of his cheese sandwich, he slumped so far into me, I could feel the weight of his entire life. He didn’t finish his sandwich. He sat…

  • Friendship

    A Man’s Best Friend

    Boxer has always been faithful to me. He’s been there for me through my messy divorces, redundancies, and through my cancer. Boxer sits on my shoulder because he’s weak. His leg broke. People stare as I stroll down Portobello Market scanning the colourful fruits and vegetables, deciding what to cook for dinner. We’re used to it now, Boxer and I. We quite enjoy watching people point and grin, amused, in awe. We seem to make them happy. I suppose not everyone roams around with their pet perched on their shoulder. We like to surround ourselves with joy. Back in our tiny, damp flat, there’s not much of it around. We’ve…