He smiles and jokes and explains tall tales. He’s in his element. From morning to evening, and even later, he’s busy.
Many people look up, staring and taking photos.
He’s a real live wire. Sometimes there will be a pigeon on his head, but he doesn’t mind.
But we can’t hear him. Not a word.
But he continues and he seems to be happy.
And if it’s really dark, and no one’s around, he’ll drop down. There’s a park bench and it’s a great place to sleep. But he’s back in his usual place before anyone else is around.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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.
‘Another fuse has blown again,’ muttered the ancient priest; he turned his head to see a rather striking red-headed woman who had just stood up and dusted herself down, and then beamed; she looked to Francis (whom she knew really rather well, particularly since he was a vampire), and then she looked to the ancient priest – ‘maybe I can help?’ she said.
The ancient priest muttered again: ‘well, I’m not an oracle, that’s for sure, and it isn’t mention in my job description either, but I don’t know what’s the matter with that thing; I’m stumped.’
But now the red-headed woman was able to say: ‘I am a dab hand at many things, including changing fuses, come on let’s do it.’
So they opened the crypt and crept down, and fortunately a large torch was at hand, and it was charged.
She carefully walked across and opened the fuse box, ‘now, the best thing is to turn off all of it, then changed the broken one, and then pushed them all up again,’ as she grinned; and a moment later the crypt was light again, although it was in the underground, of course.
She looked around, ‘there is hardly anything here,’ she looked rather disappointed, as she said: ‘no coffins now then,’ as she looked to Francis; ‘certainly not,’ he replied, ‘all our stuff is much more modern, and in another place anyway, but I guess we don’t need to go there any more, we can just close it down.’
‘A bendy bus?’ ‘What are you talking about?’ ‘Look, here’s a picture on that magazine.’ ‘What do you think about that?’ ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of those.’ ‘What does it say?’ They both peer at it.
‘Oh, it says it’s an electric bus.’ ‘An electric bus?’ They looked to each other. ‘My word!’ They continued to look at it.
‘It says that the bendy buses are very clean and quiet.’ ‘Hmm, how nice.’ ‘It says they almost purr.’ ‘Ha, like a cat, perhaps?’ ‘Maybe so.’ They both grinned.
‘I’m pretty sure we will never see one of those here.’ ‘Indeed not.’ ‘Well, not to worry, we don’t really like buses, do we?’ ‘No, certainly not.’ ‘We like our cars much better.’ ‘You have your posh lorry, and I’ve my big bakkie.’ ‘And look, both of them are ready – and both of them have all new tyres now.’
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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 women had laced up her new trainers and walked off to find what she would do, she was pleased with them, they were all the rage apparently, they were very comfortable and practical too – cool, in fact – so she continued to walk further to the cemetery, known as the Cemetery of the Large Quarries(and an interesting fact).
She’d not seen her two lovely gargoyles for ages, nor any of her vampire friends, and although she had a good day, and night, including a rather nice dinner in a bistro, just off the main road in Montmartre, she was still missing all of them.
She was still musing about what she had eaten and drunk last evening; especially that final little drink – absinthe, one of the favourite ones from the vampire people, and the best one, according to Francis.
And at that moment, the red-headed woman saw Francis, he was sitting reading by one of the graves in the shade, almost blissful she’d thought.
She was about to mosey over to him, but then someone else appeared, and who was he, she wondered; she watched as they greeted each other, he was stooped and wizened, and wearing a large hat, and then she realised he was a priest, and a very old one to boot.
The red-headed woman got closer, trying to catch the name, but all she could hear was ‘Father…’, gosh that was annoying; she was so interested to listen that she tripped… oh bother.
‘Gosh, lovely wine, and only around the corner. So nice to be in the wine area. There are several vineyards right here. And really, really close. I mean just 10 mins away.’
‘Did you know that you could get an old, but refurbish wine-press, and not too far from here?’
‘Nice idea, although we don’t have very many vines in our yard.’
‘Maybe buy some more in the garden centre?’
‘Or just buy a load of grapes… some of those great big boxes in the supermarket.’
‘Hmm, that’s easier, and already grown.’
‘So back to the question, should we find a wine-press?’
‘I am sure it could be brought here, and we could use the old shed, since there are no hens anymore.’
(a little sigh for a moment)
‘So what do you think?’
‘Hmm, we don’t have to worry about this just yet…’
‘True, not until the spring… you know, around September, I think.’
‘Oh well, you know what time it is now?’
‘Ah, so it is!’
‘Okay, you get the glasses, and I’ll get the bottle.’
‘Chin-chin!’
‘Bottoms up!’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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 women had woken up, and rather quickly, she’d sat up and looked around, wondering what time it was, clearly the sun was already quite high in the sky – what a beautiful day – she thrust her slippers on and almost jumped up from the bed.
She opened the two French doors, as the warm air flooded in, she gazed around the tiny balcony; then she gazed around again, looking up, around and everywhere, but there was no sign of the two lovely gargoyles – they were her friends!
She padded back into the kitchen to make some proper coffee, and something to eat; there was a slightly stale half a baguette which was good enough, she would share some of the crust with the two little doves who were nesting there.
After finishing her breakfast, or rather brunch, she wandered into the bedroom to dress – something fresh and light since it was May; she straighten her duvet and put her pjs on top with her pillows – all perfect now, especially since her pjs are called Cat-Puccino (yes, really).
She had been sitting on her bed, where all her treasures were strewn around now, not very useful, apart from her ruby ring which was pretty valuable; but the problem was she was bored – just bored; but that’s not the reason… no! time to go out.
She should trust her instincts, she would find something to do, and with that… she strided off – at least it’s wonderful Paris, as she smiled.
‘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?
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.’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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.
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