LATE BREAKFAST 1964

A GIRL AND BOY AND HER MOTHER ONE BREAKFAST TIME IN 1964

Benedict sips the tea
Milka's mother's made.
Milka frowns over her
late breakfast. She's late

again, Benedict, the mother
says, I did call her, but
she sleeps on like a cat on
a windowsill. I was tired,

Milka says, eyeing Benedict,
holding her spoon midway
to her mouth. Then you
should go to bed earlier,

the mother says, gazing
at her daughter. Benedict
looks at Milka's expression:
the sour face, moody stare.

And you should dress before
coming down for breakfast,
what must Benedict think,
the mother says, walking

away to the kitchen. Gone.
You don't mind me in my
nightie do you? Milka asks,
knowing he doesn't, thinking

he prefers. No I don't mind,
he says, eyeing her carefully.
The neckline open; the nightie's
shortness holds his gaze. Anyway,

the mother says returning with
a plate of buttered toast, eat up
and don't keep Benedict waiting,
as if the world stops for you,

why if I did this to my mother
she'd, well she would slap my
backside, the mother says offering
Benedict some toast. He takes

a slice and nibbles. Milka eats
her breakfast moodily, eyes on
her bowl. Where are you going
today? the mother asks Benedict.

A film at the cinema probably,
he says, a coffee at the coffee bar.
Ah, the young these days, when
I was young it was different, we

had to make out own amusement,
none of this laid on stuff you have
nowadays, the mother says. She
sits with one leg over the other,

her foot tangling. Benedict eyes
her. She has nice thighs, he muses,
nibbling the toast, Time moves on
Mother, Milka says, we have electric

nowadays. You cheeky mare, the
mother says, making a playful
swipe at her daughter's rear. Oops,
something's burning, and the mother

rushes off. Milka sighs and says
won't be long, then I'll get dressed.
Benedict nods and eyes her carefully
and smiles. No rush, he says, sipping
his tea, plenty of time for you and me.

Reviews

[wordman]

a great story terry,enjoyed the read

[Terry Collett]

Thank you, wordman