We’ll sit together, at least very soon; I’m almost running, you see, I am late again.
Well, I’ve lost something, and it’s pretty important, still not a calamity, although it’s a kind of one.
Well, I’m here now, and sorry about all of this, what a performance I’ve had, but now I’m sitting by you.
And a moment later, she opens her big bag, and says: here’s your phone.
~~~~
Image credit: Barney Goodman @ Unsplash
This picture is in black and white, shows a woman smartly dressed sitting on a bench with a tall bag near her. Her face is partially covered with her hair and we can she her profile. There is a wall behind her and a pillar on one side.
“Is this all for me?” she thought, as she opened the car door, and looked up and around. It was huge. She grabbed her phone and several pages of notes, then got out, closing and locking the door. “Habit,” she muttered to herself.”
The key was hidden under a big bush near the main door as the solicitor had said on email. She held it up for a moment, then poked the key in the lock.
It was dark inside, since all the windows had been bricked up. Still there was a large torch somewhere. But then she saw two young boys on their bikes appear.
“Hello,” said one of them. “Do you need some help?” “We can see it’s dark, but we’ve our front lights on our bikes and easy to remove them.”
She grinned back and said, “you’ll be handy, and you two will be my new friends!”
The red-headed woman scooted down from her tiny top apartment as she stopped for a moment at the bottom, she thought to herself that maybe she should be kinder to that concierge, but she was such an earwigging woman, old, tiny and mostly cross too, as she slipped an envelope under her door which contained her monthly euros, then rushed outside to the small road.
It had been such a scorching summer in Paris, too hot she felt, but now it was early autumn, which is so pleasant, as she strolled through the streets, making her way to the beautiful, but slightly rundown house with very tall walls.
She was always keen to try something new, and this was a new project, she rubbed her hands with glee, as she slipped into the side gate using her special key.
And there they were, her best friends: clever Joan and her husband, Francis, who were very rich, well, they were vampires after all, like The Old One too, who still stays there, although he has a chateau in Orleans, France; then there was the athletic feisty Scatty, who was an immortal from Ireland, and finally, it was Mr Cushing, also an immortal who had been an actor in the past.
The red-headed woman greeted all of them with many little kisses – very French, of course, but where were those two gargoyles?
But there they were, and she almost keeled over with laughter, they were doing some painting in the living room!
As the two of them pranced and jumped. What to do today?
We scoot down from that great palm tree, fun for us!
Ooh, so look at this. It’s a bicycle, isn’t it, can we jump on this?
Well, I’ve got the saddle, and you’ve got the basket, but no-one to pedal.
Oh, I think we need to go, and quickly, well, we’re just naughty squirrels, aren’t we!
~~~
Image credit: Alex Azabache @ Unsplash
This image shows a white bicycle parked near roadside, on a green tree lined street. Near the parked bike is a road sign that says, “Follow that dream”.
now this is a super scarlet ship and she’s massive and marvellous, she’s sleek and swift in the seas. there are many major operations on this fine vessel. so what’s next? shall we see?
it was a dangerous mission this time. the crew were clever as always, as the waves were lashing and moaning, but she was able to aid, for all, such a splendid, superb scarlet ship.
“Oh, let’s walk past, and quite quickly.” “Why? What’s the matter?” The two of them had been trailing around some small shops.
“Well, there’s nothing interesting anyway. Come on.” “But there is. In fact, rather nice things, I think.” She looks away, while he looks more closely.
Then he says: “don’t you like those colourful bottles? I used to have quite a few of those when I was a kid.” “Oh, that’s fine,” she says. Then she peers at them. “Yes, pretty. Very pretty. You want them?” “Nope, not now.” “On would then.”
“So what was your problem?” “Those dolls…eek!”
~~~
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers Genre: Fiction Word Count: 100
The red-headed writer (aka la Raconteuse) had woken up very early, for a moment she thought there was a huge fire in the distance, but no, it was a fabulous sunrise, more than gorgeous, it was going to be an excellent day – not dreary at all.
She got up and padded to her little kitchen, ah yes, coffee to brew, as she talked to herself as usual, and then she stared at the calendar on the door; gosh, she muttered, it was already September, as she quickly grabbed her diary to make a note for today.
With her mug in her hand, she went to her writing table, and opened her laptop, but what should she write?
Now she felt that her other red-headed woman could have another spin in Paris, with all her friends, especially those two gargoyles.
She pondered a bit, but she was getting hungry now, best to go to the Six-Sentence-Café-and-Bistro, she already knew what she would order – it will be two dippy eggs and toast, since she was pretty certain that Tom would be working that shift.
What a wonderful villa, as she smiled to herself. Is it all for me, for a week and a half? But no, just a couple of rooms at the top. Still, that’s fine, as she climbed up the outside steps, while lugging her big bag and her rucksack.
She opened the door, and dumped her stuff on the bed, then flung one of the windows out and looked. Wow and wow… what a vista! This was absolutely perfect. She grinned a lot, but just to herself.
she is a writer and sometimes she’s a poet so what will she do?
~~~
Image credit: Ryan Spencer @ Pexels
This image shows a small villa in a Mediterranean island. There is a light blue gate and we can see stairs going up on the side of the house. Flowering vines can be seen on one side of the gate.
luna's on line 