Housekeeper’s Cut – Karmel McDowell

He was clearly his father’s son.

The second (superior) joint

In the family cut of meat.

 

Same blue eyes

Same blonde hair

Thick with curls

Framing a face that made me grey at the edges.

 

He was wilful then

And bold.

A lethal concoction of buthering unpredictability

Retaining the foul impatience of a small boy.

 

But I was helpless

And even then

At that

I knew what it meant.

And what is was it would mean for me.

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