Post 1567. Sunday July 16
Sunday Photo Fiction and Sunday's Whirligig
I liked it. It was perfect.
‘The Monk’s House, what a lovely name’
‘More like a monkey house’ my wife muttered pointing at the bamboo poles holding it up.
Look, three wooden kisses on the front’ I said. ‘That’s a sign’
‘Hmph,’ she went.
We clambered our way to the back garden. ‘A pond’ I gleefully chuckled.
‘It's got slimy green skin on it’ she said.
‘It just needs stirring’ I suggested. ‘Why that face?’
‘Even the tree’s leafless’ she complained.
‘It’s winter’ I said.
‘It’s spring’ she yelled.
‘Listen, a blackbird’ I enthused.
‘That’s a car alarm down the street’ she mumbled.
We went inside. Okay, it was a mess, but nothing hanging a couple of my paintings and buying a few bits from Ikea couldn't sort out.
‘You can't put a cup and saucer together, let alone sofas and bookshelves’ she laughed. ‘As for your stupid paintings…’
‘The bath’s filthy’ she said.
‘Well, clean it’ said I. I bit my tongue; if looks could kill.
‘The fireplace is dirty’ she moaned.
‘Well, erm… I’ll clean it’ I said.
I live in the Monk’s House now. An aptly named place for a single man.
The photo at Sunday Photo Fiction comes to us courtesy of Mike Vore.
The given words at Sunday's Whirligig are bath, bamboo, hanging, dirty, wife, stirring, paintings, leafless, skin, blackbird, monk and fire.