At that moment Kirk returned in a beat up old banger.
‘H-h-ere you g-go’ he said as he walked into the kitchen with some soft new clothes and a crutch to help me walk.
‘Is it ok if I take a shower before I put them on?’ I asked.
Kirk lifted a chair from beneath the kitchen table and placed it in the shower then helped me to the shower.
‘D-d-oo you want me to help you?’ he asked.
‘Yes please’ I said.
I did not feel embarrassed as I lifted up my arms for Kirk to remove my garment. He lifted off the shower head rubbing it on his hands as he turned on the water, judging the temperature before placing it above my muddy hair. He squeezed some shampoo onto my hair and handed me the showerhead and began massaging my head.
I felt like I could stay beneath the hot water for eternity.
He rubbed some lather onto my wiry beard and expertly shaved down my face with a cut throat razor pushing my skin tight with one hand and tilted the blade slightly slowly descended towards my neck.
Kirk clipped my finger and remaining toenails while I watched the sports section of the news. The presenters were discussing the next days’ Cup Final. Grangeford Wanderers were playing their first final in 29 years against the mighty Campton Athletico.
I had forgotten all about football.
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Book / Literary Fiction
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