'Seren 'sploring
The day was grey again, but with a cold and boding wind. Seren, who has had a sheltered life, was at first unsure of the fact that nothing was rushing past her with a whooshing sound, but she soon came to embrace and even play in it, running up and
"Training"
down and taking playful leaps in
"TRAINING!"
the air as...sorry?
"I was training."
You were...training?
"Yes. In case you fall down a well and I have to run to get help."
Riiiiiiiight, I see...
Okay. Seren trained hard, running hither and yon, yon and hither, in a training regime that looked a LOT like play
"TRAINING!"
...training...until she ran into a bramble thicket and got lost on her
"'sploring"
way ou...sorry?
"'sploring. I was 'sploring in case you ever get lost down a well and I have to find my way out before I run for help."
Okaaay...she 'splored her way out of the bramble which was flapping and waving alarmingly in the wind. I know it was alarming because it made her jump and
"TRAINING!"
...what now?
"In case you're lost down a well and I have to get help but there are zombies and I have to avoid them, that was training to avoid zombies"
We bumped into a young lady who made a fuss of her. Seren really wants to be loved, and was pimping herse
"TRAINING!"
This I gotta hear.
..
"You've fallen down the well, and got lost, and I've 'splored my way past zombie hoards and now I have to 'splain to a people what the problem is. Training in c'mmun'cations..."
Right. Do you know roughly how many wells I've fallen down in the last 52 years?
"Fifty three...nearly fifty four years.."
Shut up. None. Not one...oh...er...one. Twice. Shut up.
So, we 'splored, we 'splained, we didn't fall down a well, no zombies were harmed in the making of this report, and on the way back I saw a pigeon, in a tree. Singing away mellifluously as any blackbird. Which confused the hell out of me. Until if flew away and revealed the blackbird behind it. The bugger had been beak-syncing!
We nodded in passing to the amiable drunk sat on the bench below my flat...can of Tenants by his side, laughing at the jokes only he can hear, mumbling to his invisible friends, and rolling a cigarette in the wind, the breeze carrying away God's share of the 'baccy. And I have to tell you that in that wind God is gonna have a hell of a cough.
And so home, and another day started.
Good morning to you all
"Training"
down and taking playful leaps in
"TRAINING!"
the air as...sorry?
"I was training."
You were...training?
"Yes. In case you fall down a well and I have to run to get help."
Riiiiiiiight, I see...
Okay. Seren trained hard, running hither and yon, yon and hither, in a training regime that looked a LOT like play
"TRAINING!"
...training...until she ran into a bramble thicket and got lost on her
"'sploring"
way ou...sorry?
"'sploring. I was 'sploring in case you ever get lost down a well and I have to find my way out before I run for help."
Okaaay...she 'splored her way out of the bramble which was flapping and waving alarmingly in the wind. I know it was alarming because it made her jump and
"TRAINING!"
...what now?
"In case you're lost down a well and I have to get help but there are zombies and I have to avoid them, that was training to avoid zombies"
We bumped into a young lady who made a fuss of her. Seren really wants to be loved, and was pimping herse
"TRAINING!"
This I gotta hear.
..
"You've fallen down the well, and got lost, and I've 'splored my way past zombie hoards and now I have to 'splain to a people what the problem is. Training in c'mmun'cations..."
Right. Do you know roughly how many wells I've fallen down in the last 52 years?
"Fifty three...nearly fifty four years.."
Shut up. None. Not one...oh...er...one. Twice. Shut up.
So, we 'splored, we 'splained, we didn't fall down a well, no zombies were harmed in the making of this report, and on the way back I saw a pigeon, in a tree. Singing away mellifluously as any blackbird. Which confused the hell out of me. Until if flew away and revealed the blackbird behind it. The bugger had been beak-syncing!
We nodded in passing to the amiable drunk sat on the bench below my flat...can of Tenants by his side, laughing at the jokes only he can hear, mumbling to his invisible friends, and rolling a cigarette in the wind, the breeze carrying away God's share of the 'baccy. And I have to tell you that in that wind God is gonna have a hell of a cough.
And so home, and another day started.
Good morning to you all