Roadside

Road

She had bought lunch and found a table near the fire. She made the conversation as they ate – commentary and speculation about other family members. Her father, a man in his late eighties, responded reluctantly, focused on his plate, finished his pie. She poured more tea. Three boxed sets of sandwiches were still stacked on her tray.

‘Would you like a sandwich now, Dad?’

Gruffly: ‘Yes.’

‘Ham, egg, or salad?’

He scowled. ‘Cheese!’

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