A Summer

Remembering a Summer In the backyard of the house that had never been painted and had so many people living inside that it looked like it was ready to burst, the sun flooded- high summer- as bluebottles circled the rubbish bin where a big rat sat and catlike cleaned its face using a piece of broken glass as a mirror. I patted the rodent on its head it smiled showing healthy teeth and sank them into my hand before running down a hole. My dad used the last of his whisky to clean The wound, mother was glad for that.