A Crumb of Comfort

Didn't feel very well this morning, so Mrs McG took Monty out for his walk, while I stayed in bed.

When she came back, she loomed over me, looking a little concerned, which is not one of her habitual expressions. Then her eyes focused on something on my chest - a small, brown, granular lump, with the classic irregular margin that we're supposed to look out for.

'What's that thing on your chest?'

'Eh?'

'That thing, there. It doesn't look good… You should honestly get that checked out.'

'It's probably nothing.'

I was trying to get across my stoicism, my courage in the face of the inevitable. She nodded and smiled a tight, worried smile.

After she had gone, I plucked the cake crumb - a residue of the quick breakfast I'd scoffed while she was out - from my chest and ate it.