Saturday, 15 February 2014



Why did he take her hand?
I watched in fascination as the couple walked away. I felt compelled to follow. Furtive and soft limbed in my disguise of an elderly gentleman. My bottle of elderflower cordial left behind on the park bench, even though I had spent my last zloties on it, the bottle was cumbersome and I desired freedom of movement. Travelling light , “Ascribe greatness to my God” was the tune running through my head as my lips like a harp began to move with the rhythm in my brain. Following at a stately lick, my soft boots, so worn and loose like snakes in the grass, padded on and on.
The spring snow left stains on the red leather, and as I approached stealthily I heard the woman say “I’ve sold the painting – there will be buns for tea”.
I wish I was invited.

The copyright of this post belongs to Valerie Anne Rule

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