Alice Willington – The place of silence

photo credit: see-ming lee


Alice Willington
The place of silence

We grew too big for the kitchen, until there was no room for the argument. I grilled a cake and incensed the surface. Steam escaped from the pans of boiling potatoes. The windows were kept open with clothespegs. My aunt swore loudly. The cookbooks opened shiny sticky and the crumbs lay round the edges of the chopping boards. I stole two twix bars at a time and biscuits from the tin with rattling seeds in the lid. My mother closed the hatch into the dining room and switched on the radio. I crept in when everyone was out and switched it off. I fried mushrooms and eggs. When we were grown the little green beer bottles lay round the bin. They fell clanging when my father took out the sack.