The day after Boxing Day Tim Bosley

The day after Boxing Day

My parents-in-law, both in their seventies, are like two erratics left behind after the glacier has retreated from our living room. Both are firmly embedded in the soft rock of the sofa, gently leaning on each other having shared the journey of a lifetime. My son and our dog, Ringo, rest, deposited on the rug, the meltwater of crap TV trickling around them. Everywhere there is debris the moraine of abandoned half empty boxes of chocolates, nuts, raisins, empty glasses, shreds of wrapping paper, and needles around the dying tree.

Tim Bosley

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