Fuck around and find out Plus liquorice moods in the morning.

 “It falls sir” , she says this more than once, eyes leading, as her breath is almost gone. There are blue lips ringed, that spread to a mottled hand, held out and pleading. There were four of them before, three now long departed- mustered hearts that fought great and brave wars. “ we were close sir” she says it, as if to acknowledge them, as her lips slip words towards some other time- away from the poor gates of this bleak dark house and all it's under crowded things. She will rattle loose, with these final clotted breaths; a dreary aspect, drudging up some old, long forgotten hill. These are the last rites, which like a ghost, move through papery walls in fast and fading light.“Oh sir”, she says, lips half moving, as for one last time she searches his tall kind face. For he is a gentleman physician, used to such things, and she - only one of the lowly and dim witted;  who foolishly give their hearts and souls away/ in play. MB