William Bereza on Unsplash

The red-headed writer (aka la Raconteuse) had been musing yet again while she waited for the kettle to boil; she’d been a little nervous last week went she when to the imposing bank since she needed to pay off all her debts and loans this time, lucky that she got some money in reserve, although she was pretty broke now.

She drank yet another brew as she muttered to herself while opening her laptop… there must be some inspiration in blogging world surely?

She scrolled down in WordPress – she felt it was always better on her laptop rather than her smartphone… hmm, too smart for me, as she grinned to herself; seems there’s too much fake news and stuff around the world anyway, much better to just make things up, no jeopardizing there for sure!

However, there was no inspiration at the moment she felt, as she decided to pack her big bag; it was always better to have too much than less, with pens, pencils, two notebooks and, her rather old but still good, laptop, plus several items which were most useful.

La Raconteuse left her small apartment, locking her front door, then almost running down those many steps to the bottom – it was six floors naturally.

Then less than fifteen minutes later, la Raconteuse had entered the Six-Sentence-Café-and-Bistro, while she had walked across a couple of streets, a narrow alley and then the three steps down; and now she’d almost had a small ditty in her head already.

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More #SixSentenceStories

Paris Photographer – Louis Paulin

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The red-headed woman had been reminiscing as she stood outside on her tiny balcony, she had known her wonderful friends for more than three years now, what fun they had had in the past, and they were still finding different opportunities.

She had been rather worried as Halloween might be cancelled, since Mr Cushing had told everyone about that as he had been driving them back to Montmartre, apart from those two gargoyles who had flown off before then.

However, at least that excellent cemetery, the one in Montmartre, was able to still go ahead with Halloween, and in fact it was not a bit of a damp squib at all, it was absolutely sublime, including several younger vampires, who acted victims, although they obviously weren’t, just like vice versa as they all laughed a lot.

There were ghosts and ghouls, and mummies, although almost all of them were still just vampires, but of course Scatty was enjoying this so much, since she was in her element – no-one was able to better her as she stalked around as being her other self, she’s such a beautiful black panther.

But now the red-headed woman walked back to open her iPad, since she wanted to see how the BBC World News was going; and there it was… this was amazing; it said the North American people were most pleased, there was no hollow victory over there it seemed at all.

And a moment later, the two gargoyles alighted in her tiny balcony.

FIN (for now)

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Paris Photographer – Louis Paulin

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What a very strange day had occurred in those vast catacombs, and parts had been pretty bad it seemed, however, the evening and the night were wonderful and all of them had a surge of deep happiness while settling down to watch an old movie.

Everyone had far too much delightful food and drink, apart from Mr Cushing who was much more sensible; still someone had to do that, like refilling several optics behind the bar and all the gin had been drunk at the end of the night.

Still, worry not, almost everybody went to sleep, although those two gargoyles were not in a good way, as yet again, they were more than drunk, woozy, dipsy and almost vomiting for part of the night, but nevertheless a few hours later they were completely fine again.

“We’re wonderful gargoyles, and we’re still very happy to sow our wild oats,” as they giggled; “we can be rather reckless and sometimes naughty, but oh, we need the sun and the light,” as the two of them climbed up from those catacombs, and then they flew off into the sky.

“Okay,” said Francis, “time to leave, and thank you, Mr Cushing, that was excellent,” while Mr Cushing nodded back.

So off they all went, but then Mr Cushing had several things to say: “sorry, there’s some bad news, there has been some rioting in the streets for some time, and also it seems Halloween, which is almost here, is going to be cancelled!”

next episode

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Paris Photographer – Louis Paulin

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The two gargoyles were still worrying about their smartphones, and they were feeling rather hard done by now, as they continued to peer around those dreadful bones and skulls in the catacombs, although the two of them giggled a bit about the time when they would hold an excellent flag known as a Jolly Roger, since they had pretended to be a couple of pirates at the top of a tall steeple at that time.

Meanwhile, Joan had been hammering home a point about what we were supposed to be doing now, since her husband, Francis, had been talking so much stuff he knew to tell it to The Old One, while he, The Old One, had been a bit bamboozled about all of that by now.

“Well, we are women, aren’t we,” grinned Scatty, “and we are headstrong – very much so,” as the red-headed woman smiled, “there’s no pussyfooting around in our group,” as Scatty turned into her black panther for a bit.

“All right,” said Francis, “we are almost there,’ as he looked around everyone, including those two gargoyles, “it’s going to be good… trust me.”

So off they went, and rather quickly, since almost all of them were pretty hungry by now, and also some of them were almost gasping for wine.

And what a wonderful place it was; “see, it had been restored, there was a very tall cinema, a fully stocked bar, and a complete restaurant with tables and chairs, and only for us,” smiled Francis.

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Paris Photographer – Louis Paulin

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“Well, at least I can chortle again now,” grinned the red-headed woman, as she also linked arms with Joan, while winking to Scatty, as they continued to walk through the catacombs.

Meanwhile, Francis and The Old One had been having a long and interesting conversation, but it was mostly Francis talking since he was very knowledgeable especially about ancient written things, he was waxing lyrically and said, “you know, the National Archives in the heart of Paris, in fact, almost up there,” as he pointed one hand up, “it’s the largest in the world, I’m sure,” as the two of them continued to talk.

“Fascinating, indeed,” said The Old One, although he felt he should try to move on to less grave things, especially since so many skulls and what not were just down there, and making him rather sick, even though as he thought to himself, I might be a vampire, but at least my head had not been removed, as he was about to grin too much, while glancing to the two gargoyles.

“Curse it, curse it, I can’t get a signal here,” as he poked his smartphone crossly, “gosh, but I mean maybe I’ve run out of data, you must help me… now!”

“My goodness, we’re starting to argue more than usual, we do like a bit of banter, being gargoyles, but this is too much just now, I wonder what it is?”

“Well, we’re certainly happier in the light, and preferably up by a fabulous cathedral!”

next episode

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Paris Photographer – Louis Paulin

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Joan had told everyone to stop walking, as they looked around in the first magnificent chamber, while Francis consulted his detailed map, but the two gargoyles began to take some interesting snapshots on their smartphones.

Meanwhile, the red-headed woman had recovered her composure, “no more quivering,” she muttered to herself, “and no quitting either,” she continued, “even though this huge underground catacombs place is more than weird and still pretty scary,” as she started to take more notice around the walls.

“There are so many bones down here,” said Scatty, “and all those skulls often don’t match, so many of them don’t belong together,” – “but that seems so sad,” said the red-headed woman, as The Old One joined them.

“I’m afraid we will have to pass all those wretched monarchs,’ said Francis, “there’s no other way,” – “oh well, not to worry” grinned Scatty, “I’m always happy to say this – off with their heads,” as she giggled a lot.

“Quite right too,” agree Joan, “no cakes for her or anyone else any more, you know who I mean, that Queen, Marie-Antoinette,” – “indeed no,” chipped in one of the gargoyles, “actually I believe that Queen has to continue to make quilting things, she must make them every day, and then she must undo them again,” – “well, that’s bizarre but there it is, how did you know about that?” – “no idea, but I do.”

So several of them said about that Revolution: Vive la France! – as Scatty and Joan linked arms and grinned.

next episode

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Paris Photographer – Louis Paulin

“Okay, we’re here,’ said Mr Cushing, as he gently stopped his wonderful limousine, and surveyed everyone behind him, apart from The Old One who always rides shotgun, “however,” as he continued, “I’m not sure I want to go down there, not my cup of tea (as I would say), but you can take your provisions – some rather runny brie and some crusty bread – but I think I might feed all those feral cats just over there instead.”

“Is everyone else coming down to this particular place in Montparnasse?” asked Francis – as all of them nodded; so they made their way to the nearest toll gate.

“Ooh,” grinned Scatty, “this is going to be fun, as she pulled a large bell to see who would open the huge gate, and a moment later an ancient janitor appeared.

“You may enter,” he muttered, then pointed to the left, and said, “go past those jailbirds, and don’t look at them, and maybe close your ears too, they are kind of monsters, so just ignore them – they’ve only had some misdemeanours but they’ll stay there, and probably forever.”

So they walked rather quickly, and nobody looked at those strange beings whatever they were, and that red-headed woman became pretty jumpy with all those spooky things around there, still the two gargoyles walked either side of her, and she felt rather better.

“Just a little stop here,” said Joan, “this part of those catacombs will be more than interesting,” as both of the gargoyles grinned.

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Paris Photographer – Louis Paulin

“Magnificent!” said Mr Cushing, “Wow!” said Scatty, “Amazing!” said Joan, “Awesome!” said The Old One, and then the red-headed woman grinned and said, “What a wonderful wall!” as Francis seized his violin and picked several interesting chords.

The two gargoyles nodded and then said, “this is the best way to bring art and music together, as all of them smiled, while several of them did a couple of high fives, then they all looked at that fabulous wall again including the two gargoyles.

“It’s all very well but what are we going to do now?” wondered the red-headed woman, as the two gargoyles were clearly happy to move on to do something else.

“I know, and this will be good,” grinned Scatty, “and I don’t think we have been to this place all together before; it’s great, it’s interesting, and a tiny bit scary, it’s not too far although transport is very useful to go there, but then it goes down… down… down.

“Aha, I’ve got your drift,” grinned Francis, and then he said: “it’s not dangerous but we do need to be cautious, it’s very dark naturally and the walls and the floors will twist and turn, they go huge sometimes and then they go rather small and tight, but we shouldn’t get lost, since I have my very useful compass,” as Francis pulled it out to show them.

So off they went with Mr Cushing with his excellent limo, and the two gargoyles happily sitting at the back.

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