Nimrod and Caesar

Nimrod was a mighty hunter, so the Bible said,
but like every ancient hunter, he ended up dead.
Nimrod was my mother’s dog, big, black and strong.
Everywhere my mother went, Nimrod would come along.
My mother loved good music, she would listen to Classics FM,
so when my mother died, we chose her favourite hymn.
Elgar composed Enigma Variations, Nimrod was the best.
We played Nimrod at Mum’s funeral, with Nimod’s ashes locked in her chest.

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A lucky find

Snow was falling lightly as Roger left the diner and made his way down the street towards his grandmother’s apartment. He hated his job. He hated having to inspect the kitchens of all the New York eating establishments. It was a rotten job, and he’d been in some rotten kitchens; but this was not one of them any longer. They had rectified everything on their violation list after his last inspection. Bonus points for him! He hated New York, especially since 9/11. He’d lost several good friends then. He hated the cold as well. What he’d give to move south, but his wife Anna liked the big city.

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