|
FOOT ROT
The Herdwicks in the pasture are knee deep in flood water. They’re heafed to the foot of Scafell. This is their land. A lone walker crosses the field and takes five balls from his pocket. Facing the flock, he juggles until one of the balls drops. The sheep watch the incomer with indifference. He knows nothing. He would not juggle if he had foot rot. He, too, would be unmoved. First published in The Interpreter’s House © Deborah Mason 2014 |
|