It was happy hour so the bar was pretty full. As we sat drinking our beers and neither of us noticed Hazel getting out of the lift and it was only whe... we saw the receptionist dash across the bar that we saw Hazel walking across towards us. She was wearing a light sundress with a thin, flowery patterned shawl over her shoulders. She looked really nice but what she hadn’t noticed was that one strap of the dress had slipped down and her right breast was on full show. I’m not sure how many of. This one had a past. The post bearing the scars of several moved hinges, the rusted latch worn almost through from use, even the circular marks on the dirt beneath it showed that someone had been here. What did the other have? It was perfectly formed, it didn't droop, rot, it would never need altering or repairing. It would leave no mark, no reminder. It was just a gate.Dragging myself away I made my way to the front door, following the click, scrape of my uncles unsteady gait, the paving. More

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