Vera had a not entirely comforting family moment.

A not entirely comforting family moment.

Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, or almost, Mary Ann arrived.
Vera’s sister.
From somewhere a little colder than here.

She had come, not so much to visit,
as to parade her new, incredibly impractical, bright blue plastic handbag.
It even had fake leather straps. And a lining of pure polyester.

Vera realised that she turned slightly green with envy.
Until she remembered:
That exact type of plastic–polyester mix
had once tragically killed her neighbour.

Vera had thought it was a killer whale living in that house.
Turned out, it was just a constipated penguin,
clogged with plastic and existential dread.
Vera dreadfully found that out when he exploded.

She zoomed in and out of the horrifying memory,
just as Mary Ann, her sister, finally came to the point,
and asked if Vera would help close the gap between them.

But Vera stood on another page in the sketchbook.

She thought:
This needs cocoa.
Tea isn't sweet enough to close this gap.

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