Standing in the office, looking out the window

The electrician drills into the wall,

The office women walk past

She coughs, turns and speaks in a breathless way

‘The dust…it’s the dust… from the plasta.'

The women walk away in laughter, down the stairs.

The cold rain on the street,

She breaks away from the others and heads home,

The dark room offers release,

She takes a warm shower,

Before she meets him for dinner.

She has tried to tell him things that are important to her

But he will not listen,

So she keeps quiet

And thinks of the darks rooms where she is happiest

As he talks about his business

Fixing air conditioners in motor vehicles.

She tells herself it’s better than being alone.

Published by David O'Sullivan