Ellen had just finished washing up and was now fishing in the suds, for that teaspoon which never likes to be cleaned. As the water drained, she lazily watched the bubbles flatten against the stainless, slip like egg whites through the holes in the plug or cling defiantly to higher ground, their skins trembling rainbows. She scooped up a handful of foam and clapped them flat, then ran her hands under some warm water, turned the tap to spay and helped the rest of them to their fate. It was hot outside and something scratched the back of her thigh, she rubbed the place and left a damp patch on her skin.
‘’Mummy?! Quick, come here!” Her daughter’s calls screamed across the garden and into the kitchen.