Title Smaller in Sleep
Word Count 300
Smaller in Sleep
I came back in the drizzling rain with
the purchased food hot in my hands.
I had left Kit to bathe. He was
in dear need of it, anyone would be after two weeks in that place.
And I had wanted to leave him alone, thinking he must have need of
So, up the steps again, with oyster
pies close to my chest, and the good smell of them making me hungry
already. I bumped the door open with my knee, and shook the rain
from my face.
He had bathed while I was gone, and his
dirty clothing was folded by the door. The cloak I had given him to
use was hung by the fire, drying now with sheepy reluctance. He was
asleep on the bed, curled tight as a cat. Kit had changed into the
nightshirt. Mistress Smith had been utterly wrong. It was too big
for him, huge, comical. He was so much smaller, asleep. His hair was
dark with wet and it snaked over his face. His clever face was still.
He had a spray of golden freckles across his nose. I had not noticed
Well, really where else was he to go?
There was only one bed, and one stool for my writing table. It was
one or the other. I watched as his feet twitched, he made a small
sound, like a snort, and swiped at his face with the back of one
The famous Dr Marlowe; Poor weary
thing. Mistress Smith had seen him true. I moved his pie to the
hearth to keep warm. I pulled the stool up to the table, eating with
my free hand, (as is my custom,) I got myself to work.