On the dark street I slide over damp, shiny cobbles. My foot tips, almost turning my ankle. Leaves have settled on the surface making it slimy. She has never fallen over here. I get to the door look up and down, then knock.

"Oh."
"Surprised to see me?" I push my way in.
"What are you doing here? I'm just going out. Don't shut the door, you can't stay here."
"No?"
"Look, I'm not talking to you."
I take out a large folded square of polythene and lay it on the floor.
"What on earth are you doing?!"
I kneel and spread it out.
"What are you doing? And why are you wearing those ugly rubber things on your hands?" Her voice is raised and jeering. Our faces are level now. My hands sweat in the gloves. I grip the knife.
"I like the smell."

She falls onto me. Her knees bend and she hangs on tight with both hands. Then her grip loosens. I catch her weight, pull her forward and lay her on the plastic sheeting. Her mouth opens and for the first time no words come out, like a fish. Her eyes stare at me. Black. I see her expression change. Disbelief, fury, comprehension. She understands at last. Then they go blank. Glaze over.

A thud of body, the sigh of air being pushed out. Her hair slips off her collar away from her face. I step back. Blood pools on the plastic.

I peel off the gloves and sit on the stairs, hunched, elbows on my knees, chin in my hands. The clock strikes the quarter past, then the half past. I'm in no hurry.
I get up and touch her cheek with the back my hand.
Still warm.

I step over her and shut the door behind me. I walk along the lane away from the houses. Walking at a fair speed, with blood smell in my nostrils; I notice a man standing by the bridge, staring down at the water. I could just go up to him and say, I have just... my mother is... could you just...?

I could.

The night is crisp and cold, the sky clear and cloud free. I walk on quickly past the looming trees along the path by the smooth, dark river. Cows chew and swish like the breeze.  Treading heavily, they turn and stare at me. I want to put my arms around their necks, be warmed. I want to be less human than ever before, I want their smell in my veins. I want to be licked by their long, slimy tongues.

Three hours later I'm back. I put my eye to a gap on the curtains, turn the key, a crescendo in the still, black. Inside I lean against the door and with shallow breaths take in the sound of the fridge, the red eye of the answer machine and the dark shape on the floor.
"Mother?"
No reply. I relax my shoulders.

I fold and wrap her in the polythene. Taping and rolling round and round and round. The endless searing of the noise of it brings me out in a sweat. I heave her to the door, turn out the lights. I leave her on the doorstep while I get the car. My hands shake slightly as I turn the ignition.

The motorway curves away cleanly. I sweep along at sixty five, straight backed and careful to look in my mirror. I am enjoying the power and solitude. I open all the windows and turn Aerosmith up to the highest volume. White lines keep me safe, defined.