When my wife and I first met, she would give me titles for stories and expect me to come up with something at short notice. This is the first. A noise in the kitchen led us to conclude that it had been caused by a spoon that had moved, and that became the working title for something she expected to turn into a children’s story. This is what she got. It will always be her story, given with thanks for all the encouragement.

The Spoon that Moved

There was a thin trace of spittle in the corner of his mouth into which the life from his face was draining. He sat slightly hunched and cantilevered into an upright position by a gradually subsiding arrangement of pillows jammed into the armchair around him. Daytime television insinuated itself into the remains of his mind as she hoped it would, to keep him going. And in his imagination, each time she left the room, with his chin resting on his collar-bone and his hand balled into a fist, he pounded the off button on a remote control he could no longer even grip.

She was often in the kitchen, banging things, while a single tear would run down her cheek and dry out slowly before it reached her chin. The kettle would struggle to boiling point, very slowly, images would form in the steam rising from the spout before her. He would be standing, proud, on the day she first noticed him smiling down at her, the rich folds around his eyes would dance as he bent to kiss her eyelids, his strong arms would gather her up in an embrace that was firm yet felt like cotton wool. The poetry that he carried in his voice floated like a vapour round her, there was still music in the room when he was there.

The cup of tea was strong which she brought him. She placed it on a padded tray upon his knee. Perhaps he tried to catch her eye with a look of love that thanked her. She wrapped a teaspoon in his fingers and for a tender second lingered there, just touching, before guiding his hand in circles round the cup.

Some days it was almost as if he himself was stirring. On others it seemed it was only the spoon that moved.