Smothering by Laura Cooney

Smothering

by Laura Cooney

The first time I saw a dead badger by the side of the road I poked it with a stick and thought

of macaroni when I saw its internal, writhing maggoty mass.

This one makes me think of an old cushion

matted and discarded from the lost children's nursery of dreams, where hope and aspiration are at the mercy of wheelspit and decay.

There was life in that macaroni.

I fear the scent of the death in this fabric.

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Laura Cooney is a writer from Edinburgh. When she's not writing she'll be with her children as close to the sea as possible. There will be ice cream!