My Life on a plate.

My Life on a plate.

by Rosemary Clarke

Harry Ford looked out of his window; not a soul in sight.  A lovely sunny day, he should be down the pub sitting outside with Son and Jack supping a few bevvies and setting the world to rights, instead here he was indoors more or less tied to his home, all 24 stone of him. He smiled, his brothers had all been big too; big talkers and big eaters.  His son had started worrying when they'd died within months of each other - well, he would say it was medical but there were thousands with diabetes and heart conditions no, it was just their time.

Harry gazed again at the fresh fruit and vegetables sitting like a rainbow in his vegetable racks; when would Alan get him a cake, he'd love a cake, but his son only had a little time to get food in the morning and he was very lucky to have a son who brought his food before going to the care home, but it would be nice to have a cake.
Looking in the fridge he found the sliced ham; he could have a ham sandwich with pickle that would do, he sometimes wondered if Alan was doing it on purpose but he was right, the fruit and veg were at the front of the shop.  Harry was so deep in thought he hadn't noticed the bottle of salad dressing and, as he pulled the ham out the bottle exploded onto his shirt spattering everything.  Damn!  Now he would have to change!

Plodding upstairs ham still in the fridge, he searched in the wardrobe for a clean shirt grabbing one and pulling it on; it was a bit tight but no one would see.  As he passed the mirror he stared... wasn't this the shirt he'd gotten married in?  Harry looked at it again; yes, he hadn't been able to get into that for a long while!  Puzzled, he opened the bathroom door and stood on the scales...18 stone!  Studying himself closely he was shocked; the fat under his chin had almost gone - he wasn't a bad looking bloke...one and a half months in lockdown did that?

He felt quite good walking down the stairs, he hadn't noticed that before.  Harry swept up the glass and mess near the fridge, threw it away and looked at the ham in a new light; he didn't need salad cream but he could have a salad!

Copyright Rosemary Clarke