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Monday, 25 March 2013

On my return from the castle...

I will recount the tale of the
trained killer, the flip-flops
and the boiled egg.




 I must fly.....


Mrs Bridges-like I basted my bum on the Aga,
happy in the glow of another meal prepared.
The man was boiling his eggs...
3 .45 minutes to the second.
The girl quietly wailed
'Hurry up I'm going to be late for school!'
'Won't be a tick, just one minute more, then they'll be done.'
'Then you've got to eat them, by which time, I will definitely be very late!'
'No worries I'll get you there!'
he replied, carefully peeling off the top his egg, with the same precision
he would take, to put a bullet between the eyes of a opponent. 
She waited resigned to her fate.

The sound of his flip-flops flapping on the flags of the floor
accompanied their departure.
Bum now done to a crisp,
peace reigned...
my thoughts turned to more important things...
Now what shall I have for my brekkie?




2 comments:

  1. Another post that made me smile x

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    Replies
    1. Glad it made you smile John. It was true, well apart from the bum to a crisp, that wasn't strictly right... more like the mottling you used to get on your legs when you sat too close to the fire, in the old days. Auntie Glad'll explain if you're too young to know. I obviously can't tell any more, as to who the folk were, otherwise I'd have to kill you and your furry and feathered friends wouldn't like that I'm sure!

      LLX

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