Every Saturday evening at eight o’clock, a child’s pale face appeared at a third floor window. The glass opened and the child would begin to drop crisps, one by one, into the street.
The rats who lived in the street were highly religious. Their priest told them that God lived in the sky, behind a glass. He would feed them every Saturday evening if they turned up at eight pm promptly. So they all lived happily until, one Saturday, they arrived late. The glass remained shut. No crisps descended. The priest told the rats that they had sinned and God was displeased with them.
And soon the demons came with dogs and blue flashing lights and broke into the house.
Bio: Born 1949, working as a freelance translator and occasional creative writer and tutor. I enjoy exploring poetic prose (and prosaic poetry).
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