“Liquids, liquids for sale.”
The cry came from the small window that Arthur had designed for the wall. Arthur was surprised that sound could travel through such thick air, as yesterday had brought, but he accepted the cries as being actualities of the present and for the first time in three years, looked upon the outside world.
At this moment the cat had exactly three thoughts. “Why do people stroke, why am I now inverted and why is it yesterday again?”
Arthur’s eyes espied the young boy who was selling ‘Liquids’. The shock of looking beyond the four walls of the breakfast room, hit him like a remembered party.
“Peralopolies, stand in the way of the window, quickly I say, stand there and let me avoid the visage of the child.” Peralopolies pulled up his pants and wandered nonchalantly, indifferently, apathetically and with the greatest haste, to the window sill area. Being now there, he made himself as big as his bleached and sandy limbs would allow, in order to satisfy Arthur’s simple needs.
Much to Arthur’s distress, he was still able to see past Peralopolies, to the young liquid sellers face, which was at that moment being nakedly talked upon, by the now day younger Mrs Slefton.
“Shitting Christ.” said Arthur, and hastily moved his own eyes as far from the scene as was practicable.