He is an old guy and rather downtrodden. He stares in the distance and thinking not too much.
Meanwhile the cat sits pretty and pleased; she’s the clever one.
is it his? that cat? now let’s see.
The guy turns to the cat and the cat looks to him but of course we are together, now let’s go to eat something.
~~~~~~~~~~
Image credit: Maksym Mazur @Unsplash
For the visually challenged reader, this image shows an old man sitting on a bench with a black plastic bag at his feet. A small black and white cat is sitting next to him under the bench. The man is shabbily dressed and looking toward the right with a forlorn look.
‘Another trophy,’ grinned Joey as he moved around the small museum, ‘and what a nice little find.’ He walked from one side to another, deciding where that best location would be.
He had been to the craft market at the start of the day, all the best bargains could go any time. He’d been poking around the various stalls, all kinds of bric-a-brac and stuff, and he almost couldn’t find anything appropriate. But then he saw it. Just a small wooden statue with a long face and a round tummy. Rather pleasing.
He’d haggled a bit, pushing down the price, even though he knew it was much more expensive – or at least he thought so. But of course he would do that, he couldn’t help himself. Always a dealer, as he winked, and then he hurried across the town, to open the museum.
But he couldn’t decide where to put this lovely piece.
He was sure it was very old, and also it must have come from somewhere in West Africa. Maybe Gambia or Sierra Leone? Why did he think about that? He should have to send an email to a few friends around the world. But meanwhile he would put the little piece on the desk at the front, next to his laptop.
He picked it up again. Then he closed his eyes.
‘You must have been in a large ship, and dangerous. From Africa to North Carolina, USA, but in between you went to Liverpool – is that right?’
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Posted for The Unicorn Challenge, a magical challenge hosted by Jenne Gray and C E Ayr, where they provide a photo and we, in turn, provide up to 250 words.
The red-headed writer (aka la Raconteuse) had decided that she would not go to the Six-Sentence-Café-and-Bistro today, no naughty-but-nice things to eat just at the moment; she was already primed to eat healthy things, and she had several juices on the go, plus for breakfast she had some muesli and half of a mango.
Then suddenly she could hear a ruckus down below, she opened her front door, it seemed that a couple of officers were waving a warrant around in one of the lower apartments; it was interesting, but best not to get involved, she thought, in any case petty rules were not for her, as she shut the door, and rather quickly.
She potted around in the living space, as she grinned: primal, she thought, it was a new plant called a Venus fly-trap; she peered closer, aha she beamed, another one caught – excellent!
She went to the tiny kitchen, and quickly washed the dishes, but she glared at that messy thing on the corner; perhaps she should forget about using that juicer, it was so messy and fiddly, and it took forever to clean it.
She went for a rummage in the bedroom – lots of things were under the bed – she pulled everything out and there it was, the useful box and inside was the receipt and the warranty, because by this time, she knew she would never use that juicing thing ever again.
But now she was hungry again, what would she eat… maybe another banana?
just a few flowers on the edge of the landscape it’s so grey there’s no mauve, jasmine or pearl so smoggy in that city
but close by, the colours are vibrant there’s dahlias and daisies so vivid
but it’s blurring now such a shame
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Image credit: Brooke Balentine @Unsplash
For the visually challenged reader, this image shows a few flowers lying on the parapet of a high-rise building. In the blurred background, the tall buildings of a cityscape can be seen.
Great Aunt Margot was having a leisurely breakfast on the ferry. She continued to read as she sipped her fresh orange juice.
Meanwhile the two boys had been running all around the ferry. But they stopped for a bit, they were almost out of breath. ‘It’s so big, isn’t it.’ ‘And several decks as well.’ ‘It’s lovely day too.’ ‘And calm, fortunately.’ ‘Come on, let’s run around again.’ So off they went, again.
Great Aunt Margot had finished her breakfast, but still she was reading her e-book. It was a detective novel, and it was pretty good, and she had no idea who had done the murder… yet.
A moment later, the two boys rushed past. Then they stopped and turned back. ‘Are we still okay to walk around,’ one of them said.
Great Aunt Margot looked up, holding her e-book carefully, ‘I thought your walking was rather more like running, hmm? But no problem, as long as you’re not in the way.’ She grinned now.
‘Actually, we have several things we have found around the decks. Look at these!’ The two boys smiled happily, as they removed their various pockets and put them on the table.
Great Aunt Margot looked at all of those things. ‘Quite a catch, you have,’ she remarked. But then, several people appeared, and each of them said: ‘that’s mine’ and ‘that’s yours’ and ‘is it his?’… etc.
The two boys looked rather upset, although not for long. ‘Look, the ferry will be docking soon.’
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Posted for The Unicorn Challenge, a magical challenge hosted by Jenne Gray and C E Ayr, where they provide a photo and we, in turn, provide up to 250 words.
That was very, very odd, thought the red-headed writer (aka la Raconteuse), she was sure that she had written a small piece about the Stream-of-Consciousness, but there’s nothing on her laptop – but how could it be? – more than odd, but she decided to do something different today, she would go to one of the markets not far from here.
But before anything else she would have to put her two bin bags out, as she mused as she lugged down those many stairs, maybe she could reform herself a little bit: for example, she could lay off some of that coffee and chocolate, and even that lovely wine, but not quite yet, as she grinned to herself.
All that finished, she strided off to decide where she was going, since she knew some of the best places to go now, as she looked around in that neighbourhood.
She passed the wedding shop – not for her she knew, as she crossed the street and then walked around the corner; where there seemed to be a celebration, and then she clicked, it was the Cinco de Mayo.
She continued over a couple of streets before finding herself in the particularly good market – with lots of art, crafts, vinyl, gorgeous vintage clothes, and all kinds of bric-a-brac stuff, but what to buy, she thought; but then she couldn’t decide.
There were several food emporiums around, and all looking very nice, but as usual she decided to go over to the Six-Sentence-Café-and-Bistro for lunch.
— p.s. So that’s where it when! Who knew? That red-headed writer was very confused. But, at least she’d found it. So that’s alright. That Stream of Consciousness, hmm, it was very strange.
I can’t darn I can’t knit I certainly can’t crochet.
What can I do? Well, I can turn up my jeans as I’m rather short.
You see, I’m a writer …and so it doesn’t matter what I wear!
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Posted for The Unicorn Challenge, a magical challenge hosted by Jenne Gray and C E Ayr, where they provide a photo and we, in turn, provide up to 250 words.
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