She’d looked in the bedroom and bathroom. She’d looked in the kitchen and dining room, but no. She was almost positive she had left them in the living room since she’d been reading. She sat down by her coffee table.
She had a thought.
Maybe those glasses had fallen under the couch. She knelt down and poked around, just as her cat appeared. They were at the same level. The cat playfully tapped one paw at her cheek. Suddenly, those glasses dropped from her head.
Aha, clever cat! Those glasses had been there all the time.
~~~~
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers Genre: Anecdote Word Count: 100
Thered-headed woman was tired, since it had been a long day, and it was very late now, she hadn’t seen her friendly two gargoyles, which was rather sad, but as she was about to turn in, she saw them.
She motioned a hand from her little balcony as the two gargoyles circled and landed; she thought how graceful they were – always on the move, and very mobile considering what they were, although only very privileged people would see one moving, never mind two.
Both of them grinned, then one of them said, ‘let’s get a photo quickly, all of us, say cheese,’ – and a moment later they all crowded together on that rather new smartphone, ‘that’s nice, and don’t forget some suitable hashtags.’
‘So did you? I mean that daring heist in the Louvre,’ asked the red-headed woman to the two of them; – they both grimaced and said at the same time, ‘if only… imagine that, but no, not us.’
‘Well, I guess you wouldn’t have done a photo just now, know of course not, you would be hiding, wouldn’t you,’ – ‘correct,’ said one of them, and continued, ‘but there might be a reward, and that would be good, wouldn’t it, don’t we think?’
‘We have also had a few good thoughts about that,’ said the two gargoyles, ‘you see, we have been trailing several leads, including that Inspector Clouseau, and also a couple of clever animals – a cat and a panda; what do you think about that?’
Was that me in a different life? Is it possible to be reborn again without knowing? Something drastic happened. Everything disappeared completely. Not just dark. Just nothing. Nothing at all. Gone.
And yet… Something rebooted, eventually. Eyes opened. But looking upside down, and back to front. Just like a brand new baby. And then it all came back again. So, I’m thinking that’s what happened.
a new chance many lovely days lucky me!
~~~~~
Image credit: Mohsen Karimi@Unsplash
The image shows a blurred girl/woman through a rain-streaked window. The background is not clearly seen.
At last, something worked, she grinned, I’m so happy!
She had looked out very early, just as the sun poked up. She could see it was fine, as she showered and dressed quickly. She brewed her coffee, as she continued to smile; she wondered what this particular one had managed to cling on to life, since so many hadn’t. Dreadful really, as she mused while supping her coffee.
It was very windy, as usual, as she stepped out into her kind of garden. There it is, as she looked up. My first pretty rockery with some real living little flowers!
~~~~~
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers Genre: HistoricalFiction Word Count: 100
The red-headed woman had been in various places in France, enjoying the cafes and vineyards, and also managed to get a bit of money on the side, since she had to earn a living in some way or another – a hustle here and a hustle there, but at least her lovely ruby red ring had been fixed.
She was so happy to draw up in her little red car to look up to see her attic apartment in Paris; she parked her car several streets away and hurried to buy some things.
She went to the nearest small supermarket, threaded her way to the counter where she would find a few things to keep her going – a baguette and a squishy cheese and a carton of fava beans which she would cook with some butter and garlic, very tasty.
She walked up to the top floor, unlocking her door, dumped her big bag on the table, then opened her double French doors, how lovely to be home; she had idly thought about the two gargoyles since she always enjoyed their company.
She had been perusing on her smartphone to see what had been going on over those last few months and, of course, the main story had grabbed her the most had been the Louvre Museum in that amazing dare-devil heist and all those gorgeous jewellery stolen, almost to order, she’d thought; could it have been the two gargoyles who had a hand in that heist?
Was it just a story? I think not. It was real. Very real. But perhaps just use a beautiful dream? That would work better.
She would walk into the lounge. She would open the double doors into the garden, and then to the still warm pool. Such a treat! She would sit on the wall, looking at the gorgeous sunset, between the dark waters and the vivid sky. She would remove a pretty feather to touch it and smooth it. Then she would walk back again. Closing the double doors.
She would lay down to sleep again. Sleep on… forever.
~~~~~
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers Genre: HistoricalFiction Word Count: 100
The red-headed writer (aka la Raconteuse) was in her tiny apartment, she’d finally finished her crossword in her folded broadsheet newspaper, noticing that she had ink on both hands.
She mused as she wandered into her kitchen, while she cleaned her hands, and then brewed some more coffee; she had many diverse tastes and interests, in fact, she always had, although her favourite hobbies were her writing and reading.
A few minutes later she brought her coffee into the living room, putting it on the coffee table where she picked up her latest book – The Weight of Snow and Regret by Elizabeth Gauffreau.*
She held the book unopened for a moment: the front cover was beautiful, like a picture of snow – the perfect time to read in the winter, the book itself was quite heavy since there are many wonderful words, so she opened the book, removing her bookmark – she’d had this for years, a little cheshire cat in metal, she put it down – now it was time to read.
La Raconteuse was engrossed in her book apart from playing the CD by Lightnin’ Hopkins, since he was in that book; she continued to read for more than an hour, but now she was hungry.
It was almost lunch-time as she ventured out into the wintry day, it looked like it would snow soon, as she dodged the cars and taxis as she walked across the streets; at least it’ll be warm in the Six-Sentence-Café-and-Bistro, as she quickened her step.
She’s a busy lady! She’s beautiful, She’s clever, She’s making a nest.
She weaves, and weaves, Delicate but strong, She continues to weave, Until she’s happy.
She’ll finds some food, More than she needs, But she’ll keep it for later, Now she’ll doze for a while.
A few days later, She’s even busier, She’s making more silk, It will be her nursery.
Do you know her? I’m sure you’ve guessed… She’s more than just a spider, She’s a lucky lady!
~~~~~
Image credit: Doncoombez @Unsplash
In this image we can see branches of a pine tree. There is an intricate spider web woven between two of the branches. The background is blurry, but the golden light suggests a forest or garden setting.
luna's on line 