Cushion

 

Cushion

Herschel, very relaxed.

It is bliss to cushion one’s weary head and feel the troubles of the day drift away, even as the bitter gale whines round the house, its chilling fingers probing cracks and crannies. It moans and whimpers, screams and sobs, and the cushioned head dreams on, oblivious, safe and warm – and attached to a body, in case you’re thinking it’s disembodied.

This flight of fancy was inspired by Roxy and Herschel, peacefully slumbering while Gilbert attended to other matters in the conservatory – just a little pruning here and there . . . mostly there. Jellicoe was on my lap, 'helping'.