Not only rain but dripping ticking off the seconds into minutes into hours of lonely work. Amid the artwork by Matisse and Ansel Adams and brightest yet the fingerpaintings by Finnoula, little Maeve and Magdalene I try but it is not enough, not enough to push the grey back out the windows so I work here with a hammer setting corners doing something while the dead mouse and the vole sleep silently in their traps.
Flash Fiction Fridays
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"I will breakfast from the cupboard where uneaten dreams are kept"
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"I foresee the successful future of a very mediocre society."
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see? This is what I mean a normal everyday occupation on a dull day transfigured. I see dust motes dancing in the air and you, wearing a magicians hat and starry gown, casting spells so that paintings and other treasures come to life and frame themselves. lol
Well I sure hope the mouse and vole didn’t catch any magic dust and rise up to take revenge!