While we were gone today
the pond, fed up
with being left outside,
broke in through the back door.
It trickled round the house,
leaving a snail here,
a tadpole there,
a green stain on the armchair.
It must have been in the bath –
the taps were slimy –
and Dad’s wildlife books
were all over the floor,
covered in algae.
What’s more, my Xbox
had been tampered with
and someone, or something,
had set a record score.
It’s back in the garden now,
but what’s more disturbing
is the message we found
scrawled on the fridge door:
If you want to see the cat again…
then a list of demands
including TV viewing rights,
holidays abroad,
a CD of Handel’s Water Music
and a duvet for cold nights.



Hugh Dunkerley lives in Brighton with his wife and son. He loves being in nature and climbing mountains. He used to work in conservation and now teaches creative writing at The University of Chichester. He also writes poems for adults.