William Bereza on Unsplash

‘Well, that’s a pickle,’ muttered the red-headed writer (aka la Raconteuse) as she peer down to the stairwell from the roof, it appeared that all those light bulbs had blown, or maybe just that particular fuse had gone, which was more likely, as she continued to peer down.

Surely someone would flick that fuse up again, as la Raconteuse pulled out her smartphone, she felt either Tom or the Bartender would not pay scant attention to sort that out and soon.

Meanwhile, la Raconteuse grinned since she’d been reading using the app for Kindle on her phone, it was an excellent quirky novel, with a genre known as steampunk, she might continue to read, but it was getting rather cold by the flat roof and the moon was up now.

So she clicked her torch on the phone, then began to walk down the narrow stairs; she was hoping that she wouldn’t fall again since she had scarred one of her knees rather badly, although at least that scab had almost gone now.

She suddenly stopped by the nearest landing as her smartphone started to ping; ‘what’s this, I wonder,’ as she talked to herself out loud, ‘it’s a ping and another ping, surely this must be a scam,’ as she tried to work out what it said.

She stared around the darkness, then looked at her phone again, it said: how can it tell me to open a door, when I didn’t know there was a door here before?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

More #SixSentenceStories

William Bereza on Unsplash

‘That’s a puzzle,’ said the red-headed writer (aka la Raconteuse) as she continued to stare at that large book about gardening, ‘it says we need several different types of veggies but we need to be careful since some of them wouldn’t be happy together.’

‘Good grief, I didn’t know all of those things,’ as la Raconteuse continued to talk out loud, ‘toms don’t like spuds, fancy that; this great book is a mine of knowledge, isn’t it… so glad it came in that big cardboard box with all those other things.’

‘But, sorry I’m hogging this book, although you, Tom, you are reading the other new one, the one about gourmet food, and that looks also interesting,’ as la Raconteuse peered at the other one for a bit.

‘Gosh, that one looks even better, miles better in fact, and all those beautiful photos… ooh, lovely salads on this chapter, with different edible flowers; look, there are nasturtiums, pansies, pot marigolds and borage; hmm, the only one I would know is that last one – borage flowers – good for gin and tonic,’ as she giggled.

‘Listen,’ said Tom, ‘shall we go up to the flat roof to see how things are doing; I’ve already put out those bags of top soil and compost,’ – ‘oh yes, sounds good.’

So, la Raconteuse headed out to those new raised beds, and good there were, but the first thing she said was this: ‘it’s hardly a mortal enemy, it’s just a slug, but it’s huge… ugh.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

More #SixSentenceStories

William Bereza on Unsplash

The red-headed writer (aka la Raconteuse) had signalled to the lovely Bartender at the Six-Sentence-Café-and-Bistro, as she held up one finger and smiled; she knew she had enough for today, but what a lovely day she had.

Such a beautiful walk by the river with Hūnga and the tall, thin man; la Raconteuse would fling a nice stick to Hūnga, and Hūnga would bring it back; he would drop the stick by her feet, then sit on his hunches while looking up to her and woofing.

It seemed that Hūnga was grinning back too, since la Raconteuse had been flaunting a new red hat, and rather startling too; indeed, the tall, thin man was also wearing a cap, and why not? although he would remove it before walking into the Six-Sentence-Café-and-Bistro.

Then, la Raconteuse started to grin again as she thought about that big cardboard box; it turned out that there were various useful things, and nothing worrying in it at all, in fact, when they came back, that big box had gone, and new things had been put into places.

She mused as she looked around, all those pretty vases which held sprouting bulbs now, they are going to be daffodils she had been told, how lovely, and there was one on every table.

But even better Tom had been up to the flat roof, it was where la Raconteuse used to write there, but now Tom had repurposed the place – it’s going to be a productive garden.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

More #SixSentenceStories

William Bereza on Unsplash

The red-headed writer (aka la Raconteuse) was very much revived now after that excellent coffee at the Six-Sentence-Café-and-Bistro, while she chatted to Mimi who had been stacking the clean glasses and other things by the counter.

“Do you need any help around here?” asked la Raconteuse.

“Gosh no, nothing needed around here,” said Mimi, “however, there is one thing you can do, as she held up one finger and grinned; “just wait for a couple of minutes, I will be back,” as she darted back through the double doors, past the kitchen, past the Manager’s Office and beyond.

Then the tall, thin man appeared from the double doors, he must have been in his Manager’s Office all the time; he was now carrying a large cardboard box which was clearly rather heavy: “hmm, intriguing,” thought la Raconteuse, as she smiled radiantly to the tall, thin man, as he put that box on one of the tables.

But then there was much barking behind the double doors: “why, it must be Hūnga!” said la Raconteuse, as Mimi and Hūnga appeared just then; “now that’s going to be fun,” grinned la Raconteuse, “I’m thinking we should go for a lovely walk, what do you think, dear Hūnga?” – as Hūnga woofed back.

And so, since it was a gorgeous spring day, la Raconteuse, Hūnga and the tall, thin man all went on a walk by the wide river and by the cherry blossom trees, and that big box was forgotten for the moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

More #SixSentenceStories