Paris Photographer – Louis Paulin

previously

A new day, thought the red-head woman, as she sat up in her bed, then got up and quickly threw some clothes on, she stared out, then opened her tiny balcony: what an odd smell, almost rank, she thought, but still nothing to worry about, unless it got worse.

She had wondered where her good friends, the two gargoyles, had gone from the roof just next to her garret, because yesterday they had slept there, since they had been rather woozy then, maybe that’s why it was a bit whiffy… oh, but here is a note on the table – lucky it didn’t blow away.

The two gargoyles had basic hand-writing, it was good enough; the red-head woman started to read.

This is for you, as we saw from the roof, we could see Mr Cushing and The Old One looking over the lovely city, while they were listening to rather loud music, but then Mr Cushing said that would be no problem he would run The Old One back to his ancient pile in Orleans – so there you know, all right xxx

ps: the three lovely vampires had been very busy all night in the cemetery and now they were snoozing like the dead (we are giggling)!!
pps: we will be back though… soon, but in the meantime the two of us will be watching the football – a crunch match on Saturday.

The red-head women smiled, although something was niggling in her head still, but she couldn’t get to it.

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Kalina O. on Unsplash

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Mr Cushing had opened all the doors on the limo, as everyone piled in the seats, he looked up along the road to see some awkward customers who were coming very much nearer; it was time to close the doors and go – ‘I will drive like the wind now,’ he said.

The two gargoyles were slightly inept as they climbed into the back, although granted they were careful not to damage the upholstery, but they were a little woozy, since they had drunk rather a lot of the special cocktail made by Mr Cushing.

Scatty lay down, staring up to the panoramic roof, where the huge moon and all the lovely stars stared back; while Joan and Francis were having a little smooch.

Meanwhile, Mr Cushing had been driving the limo, as it glided around the outskirts of Paris, it was almost midnight; ‘where should I drop you?’ he asked, ‘we are near Montmartre.’

Everyone suddenly sat up – ‘that’s handy… and of course, haunting time too,’ said one of them – as they all grinned, apart from the red-head woman, ‘I am happy to hop out, just here,’ as she took her big bag and her suitcase, ‘do you want to come too?’ – as the two gargoyles nodded their heads.

Back to the cemetery for us, as their little teeth became more noticeable; but then The Old One said: ‘Mr Cushing, shall we go up together with your limo, we will look down over the city while we turn up the volume.’ 

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The red-head woman was elated as she slammed her cue down and laughed saying, ‘I’m the victor,’ as she turned around, but then she slipped and fell down, fortunately Francis was at hand, and he helped her up, ‘enough, let’s go.’

Joan and Scatty had already left, as they wanted to have a little swim in the clear river, they would take all their clothes off, skinny dipping was hardly a vice, but still they made sure there was no one around; they both jumped in, swimming and giggling, then they tread it water as they looked up to see the huge moon.

By now Francis and the red-head woman had been walking next to the river, they could hear the splashing from Joan and Scatty – ‘don’t worry about us,’ as the two of them waved back.

Said Francis, ‘let’s continue to walk, I feel I could speak a verse or two,’ as he started to utter eloquently: ‘by the way it’s from Shakespeare… of course.’

But the red-head woman had no truck in that kind of thing, as she hurried up to where The Old One and Mr Cushing were standing near the limo: ‘oh, that looks divine,’ as she licked her lips.

Mr Cushing had been busy mixing and blending a large pick-me-up, it was a special concoction, excellent for all of them (even the two gargoyles who had been bickering for almost an hour), ‘come everyone, enjoy, and maybe a bit of tripping too,’ as he winked.

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Kalina O. on Unsplash

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Everyone now knows that Peter Cushing was a great chauffeur: the Old One was sitting next to him grinning happily, while the two gargoyles were sitting backwards, being very careful not to scratch the upholstery, while looking around with their eyes peeled.

They had been in the lovely limo for several hours watching the many villages and little towns, since they were so much nicer than motorways, but now they were coming to a forest and it seemed right to stop.

‘So what’s here then,’ asked the red-head woman, as the two gargoyles proceeded to answer, while everyone else opened their doors and climbed out.

Scatty and Joan made a beeline to walk down to the river where it was clear and refreshing as both of them took a little sip, and a little more, where Joan explained that here in the cities, the water was often cloudy and opaque.

Meanwhile, Mr Cushing had been busy removing several deck chairs, a couple of small tables, and other useful things from the undercarriage of the limo; and soon Francis was happy reading another tome, while the Old One and Mr Cushing began to reminisce again.

Rather later, most of them went into the hamlet together, where they found a bar; but already here was the red-head woman who was in her element, she had been playing pool for more than an hour, winning everyone in sight, the next one, she said: ‘So pal, what do you think – double or quits, eh?

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