his nails were bitten down so that the tips of his fingers resembled bulbous turnips swelling up from the earth.

i pressed the barley sugar between his lips, they parted with a dry crackle, revealing the cold moist interior of his mouth. i let my hand linger there for a moment, sensing his taste buds moisten as he savoured the sugary pellet, a sweet film developing at the corners of his mouth as he sucked at the lolly.

after a moment i let my hand fall away, watching the old man relish in the onslaught of flavour, his wrinkly eyelids slinking down like a toad as he swallowed.