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Edna
Edna smiled to herself,
and hummed along,
to the tune on the radio.
Threadbare slippers on her feet,
hair in rollers,
yellow teeth.
Morning my dear, called out Betty.
Her neighbour from next door.
Come on love, put the kettle on,
I'm gasping for a brew.
Heard anything from Stan yet?
Asked Betty,
as she poured the tea from the pot.
It's funny how he just took off like that,
without a single word.
I doubt we'll be hearing from him again.
Said Edna.
As she sipped the tea from her cup.
Smiling to herself,
at the thought of what she'd done.
Out in the back garden,
buried in a shallow grave.
Stan and that woman,
Edna had caught him with.
Lay forever in an adulterous embrace.
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