he was like any other nasty old man
- smug - his waistline at his breasts -
a wife skittering at his pleasure

but there was something nastier -
a certain glint in his eye - an arrogance -
glistening like the whiskers briskly shaven

'they made me build roads' he laments -
chewing on a kaiser roll - tongue lapping-
moist bread churning on his gums

'ten years they worked me like a slave -
murderers get less' - the wife interrupts him
with attempted good humour

'oh don't mind him' she says
   - offering me a glass of cola -
'leave the boy alone - it's not his fault'

the half chewed bread slides down his dry throat -
before the adam's-apple has come to rest
the other half of the soup dipped roll goes into his mouth

'they were different times' continues his wife
prizing the lid from a decorated biscuit tin -
- I take gingerbread - lay it on my knee

'do you have grandparents' he asks
I sip my drink and nod at the absurd question
   - how else would I be here -

for some reason this pleases him