She didn’t want to move into the new house, but it took until December for her parents to realise why. She’d run to her mother, struggling to explain through the tears. Father Christmas, how… which one…? Her mother laughed. Told her more chimneys meant more presents. That greed was good.
9 comments:
Oh I like that one; sweetness and bite
Nik
And so they shopped for twenty stockings to hang by the twenty fireplaces. Twenty mince pies and Twenty sherries for Mr and Mrs Money to guzzle after she had gone to bed, sleeping sound in the knowledge that they had fooled Santa. Dreaming of the gluttony of the Yule Celebrations.
I've just realised there weren't quite twenty chimneys.
Dave was too frightened to go in after what had happened before. He would take a different approach. He hauled his long-handled brush up a ladder onto next door's flat roof. Black air rose from the chimney pot, thick with expletives, so he shoved his brush in hard. Done.
It was a different view of things. Up there, crawling on the roof, clinging to the stacks of chimneys, looking down instead of up. Crerar saw her crossing the street, small, far below, and he called her name, stood tall as tall, waved. Jennifer didn’t see him. She never would.
This made me laugh out loud ( or LOL, as I believe you call it these days). Excellent.
Thanks, Nik. I was thinking at first of Gordon Gekko, but the other fits too!
Pinkgecko - you're forgiven, there are at least twenty hundred in total, it's Hampton Court Palace! I have a place kept for you at the Artists Way, btw. Do you want to join? No probs if not.
Kathryn and Douglas - brilliant as usual. You have no idea how happy it makes me that you play too!
And Dave, LOL! IOU a poem.
Ah! That'd make sense - and it translates, doesn't it? Which must be a good thing.
Nik
Sarah - thank you for letting us play! (even if I wasn't sure which Gordon(s) I was writing about ...)
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