Cold Heart

‘Mrs Radley, you really should open your windows more often. Look at the flies.’
I opened a window.
‘And get some air freshener. It smells so-’
My face contorted.
‘You’d feel a lot less lonely if you tried making more conversation. Sometimes I feel as though I’m talking to myself.’
I flicked the duster along the back of Mrs Radley’s chair. Specks settled on her soft white hair. I swiped along the arm and around her mottled hand.
Mrs Radley was grinning at me. Her dentures were on her chest and a bluebottle was regurgitating on her left eyeball.