"Cheers Son".
The ungrateful old cow, how dare she, "Cheers Son"…
Is that all she had to say? The depths he'd lowered himself to get satisfy her demands. That birdbath was heavy. It was damned heavy. But above all else, it was stolen!
The days leading up to mother's birthday had slipped by, each heaping yet another layer of despair onto his already weakened soul. She always made a big deal of his birthday, spending money he knew she hadn't got, or couldn't truly afford. He'd always tried to make hers the best day of the year, with presents, her favourite dinner and all the trimmings, but the last twelve months had seen his fortunes sink to an all-time low.
Walking home last night with empty pockets, devoid of cash or present, wondering how he could explain there would be nothing for her this spring.
Walking aimlessly towards home, heading in the general direction of the run down bungalow his mother laughing called 'her palace', he saw it, just sitting there, exactly what she wanted, or so he thought.
"We need to do something with the garden", looking out over the snow covered postage stamp she added, "A bit of colour in the borders and a bird bath would make that look champion." Without a moments hesitations he vaulted the low wall, and grabbed the bath off the pedestal and legged it for home. Twelve minutes later he'd secreted it under the lilac bush that provided the only hint of life in the otherwise bland space, but was already regretting his impulsive 'purchase'. Realising he needed the pedestal too, he dragged himself back through the alleys and rat-runs of the estates to find it. more than an hour passed before he stumbled home, arms and shoulders burning with the effort of dragging that weighty ornament to join its partner.
All that effort and she says "Cheers", as if he'd just made her a cuppa, hardly giving it a second glance as she returned to the sofa for another day's rest and relaxation.
"Right then" he says, blowing her a kiss, "Have a good day, I'll see you when I finish work", closing the door behind him, he made his way to the end of the street and into town, wondering when, or even if he would ever be able to tell her that he hasn’t had work for months. Making his way to the sea front, he wanders along the shoreline, picking up a few coins dropped during the previous night revelers, hardly enough for a coffee, he'd have to go hungry again this morning.
