Seaspray and spindrift

by Ondine Evans 

'Actually', I hear my most-used word in my children's mouths, 'Well, actually, mum...'

They are trying to explain their version of serendipity, a moment when icecream miraculously saves them from brussels sprouts.

I sigh. The cat arches languidly and inspires his breath for another plaintive miaouw...

Somnolescence descends over me like a soothing whisper, a susurration.

My dreams are freeform poetry, whirling words around my mind, cut loose from their moorings. Flotsam and, most definitely, jetsam.

Written in response to Tuesday 6th September exercise