February 27th, 2021

Drumming My Heels

The wall is four to five feet high. I'd like to sit on top of it- in the sun- and look out at the field. But can I get up that high? Oh, stop acting your age! Of course you can! So I hoist myself up and drum my feet against the brickwork.

Look at me, I'm Tom Sawyer.

I was expecting a flat, dull sort of a sound and am surprised that there's a reverberation to it- as if  I were kicking metal and not baked clay. It's like what happened when NASA crashed a piece of space junk into the moon (doing their bit as responsible galactic citizens) and the moon rang for hours- just as if it were hollow- which is what they might have just proved it to be. A hollow moon- whatever next? They didn't rush the news out because the implications of the moon being hollow are not the sort of thing they want the general public to be worrying their heads about.

I hear the cat mewing and catch sight of him behind the hedge on the path that leads to the kitchen garden. He's lost track of me and asking me where I am, so I call his name and he slips through the hedge, gallops across the intervening ground and jumps up beside me.