#54

Always he would go about
Flinging windows open
Telling us to put on more jumpers
As we huddle in layers
The size of pumpkins
There is no mercy in this stone house
Left here for us by Victorians
‘Be grateful you’re not really cold,’
He smirks, finding himself hilarious
While we search the room for dead mice,
Anything to prove
that our discomfort is valid

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