"A" Shed anyway. |
Drrrrrring. Drrrrinnnnnng.
“Hello”
‘Bob?’
“Bitsnbobs?”
‘Aye, how are you?’
“Better than you lot that’s for sure, and
don’t start AYE-ing me, we don’t give out nationality just for that you know.
You need, at a minimum to toss a caber now and again.”
‘I lived in Aberdeen for a year’.
“That changes everything.”
‘It changed me.’
“You should write about it on the blog
someday.”
‘I have – besides that’s why I’m phoning…
we’re waiting for a box of archives from you.’
“I sent ‘em, there in the Shed.”
‘The Shed? We have a Shed?’
“You do, it’s round the back where the
chickens are.”
‘We don’t have any chickens.’
“They’ll be in the Shed too.”
‘Ok, great, thanks, I’ll go open it right
now.’
“Take care of yourself, troubled waters
ahead I fear.”
'Thanks, speak soon, bye.'
The late evening sun catches the trees
unaware and suddenly the leaves of last winter are laid bare, hiding amongst
the green growth of spring.
They are embarrassed, unsure as whether to
drop or curl up.
The wind could free them but there is no
breeze, and the birds would take them to line their nests, but those nests are
long time made.
Even the cuckoo has stopped searching.
this post was an int AND an ab, the first i think so - intyandab1
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