One night me, Antman and Fleabag was havin a cuppa with Granny Edie and her oldest daughter Aunty Essie. Gran’s ninety years old and Aunty Essie is seventy. Anyway, we was sittin out the front of their camp, sippin on enamel mugs of sweet, milky tea, eatin biscuits and lookin up at the sky. It was covered with a big heap of stars and there was a great big, old yellow moon sittin right in the middle of em.
‘Ya know what, Mummy?’ Essie starts.
‘What, daught?’ says Gran, dunkin her scotch finger in her tea and handin half ta Fleabag.
‘Sometimes everything just gits ta me and I feel like gittin a great big ladder and climbin up and just livin on that moon.’
Granny finishes chewin on her half of the biscuit and looks up. ‘Yeh, daught. I’ll come with ya. I reckon it’d be nice up there.’