The sailor’s museum

I sit against the smooth stone wall of the museum,

closed ten years ago.

I try hard to think of something –

anything –

other than Mum leaving home.

From here I can see all of Turon

scattered around the west side of the lake.

To the north is a row of lakeside mansions

at Tipping Point where Patrick lives

bordering the National Park

separated from the rest of us

by a swampy creek

and a million dollars.

Patrick’s dad has planted a

FOR SALE sign near the driveway

that lists ocean views,

a landmark setting

and a price tag

that makes my eyes water.

Manx’s dad lobbied

the council

to reopen the museum,

but all they wanted was a quick sale

and money in the bank.

Mr Lloyd-Davis

gets a bonus if he sells it

within the next six months.

As if he needs the extra money.