He left the papers on the desk and stepped away from the light of the monitor. Stood at the back door as the rain stopped. He took a sip but the tea had gone cold. Put the mug down on the counter by the microwave.
The clouds were beginning to clear above him. Light reflected on the wet slabs. He looked down at his feet, then closed his eyes and moved his head slowly. Heard his neck crack.
He reached down and took off his socks. The cold slabs below his feet. Then grass. Past the BBQ. To the far end of the garden. He crouched down and felt the soil between his fingers.
He breathed in.
Paul Andrew Sneddon 