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Sep 2016
Nima's mother came
to the side ward
where her daughter Nima
was sitting by a window
in her dressing gown
looking at the passing trains.

You look no better,
her mother said.

Better than what?
Nima said,
turning to eye her mother.

Than last time,
her mother said,
walking into the ward,
and sitting in a chair
by the bed.

You look tired.

I am tired,
always tired,
Nima said,
looking away
from her mother,
focusing on a train
going by.  

Her mother sighed.

You need to get better,
how is the treatment?

Ask the quacks
they're in charge
not me,
Nima said,
watching a milk float
go by on the road
across the way.

You are a very
spoilt child and rude,
her mother said.

Have you come
to upset me or what?
Nima said.

Have you seen
that boy again?

May have,
Nima said,
turning to gaze
at her mother.

Have you or not?
Her mother said
in a firmer voice.

What is it to you
whom I see?
Nima said.

He could be
a drug pusher
and you'd be back
in dirt hole again,
her mother said.

He's not a pusher,
he has nothing to do
with drugs which
is why I like him,
Nima said,
remembering she
and Benny in
the cheap hotel bed
making out
at the weekend.

Is he our type?
Mother said.

Our type?
I doubt it very much
and am glad,
Nima said.

Her mother sighed
and stood up
and walked to where
her daughter sat
and stood over her.

If it wasn't for me
you'd be in some
cheap ward
with the others,
Mother said coldly.

When did you
see him last?  

At the weekend,
Nima said,
seeing in her mind's eye
she and Benny
in the bed stark naked,
curtains drawn back
taking in the view.

What did you do?
Mother said.

Nothing much,
sat and talked,
Nima said,
the landlady coming
to the door with tea
that Sunday morning
and Benny going
to the door
in just his underwear
and she(Nima) smiling
at the landlady's stare.
Terry Collett
Written by
Terry Collett  72/M/England
       ---, John Stevens, --- and wordvango
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