She filled her boots when

Panic buying was the vogue her

Bulk brushing rivals aside

Toilet rolls were the

Least of it

Catering packs of SPAM enough

Condensed milk for an army platoon, boxes of candles and

Assorted biscuits filled the loft her

Bathroom plastered with paracetamol cough

Linctus and mouthwash but above all

Valium for honed to a

Tee by loneliness

Mabel must cover every

Eventuality so when lock-down

Dawned she played the delivery

Slot casino and won, augmenting her

Stockpile while struggling to keep a grip and

Sit it out but nagged by how to

Consume all that stuff for what if it went off or worse,

A burglar

Beat her to it? Lately she feared she was slipping she

Knew the signs, yesterday Tom next door

Worried about Bilbo's howls found

Mabel on the floor her

Sixth Wagon Wheel had gone down the

Wrong way


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◄ The Visionary

Glory ►


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