“The entire dix-septième arrondissement, Pierre?”
“Yes, Papa.”
“Including Place de Clichy?”
“Yes, Papa.”
“And Avenue des Ternes?”
“Yes, Papa. That’s why I really need new clothes...”
“New clothes for such a job?”
“Yes, Papa. The right shorts, and shoes, and...”
“Shorts? You would wear shorts for a job?”
“Yes, Papa. Everyone does now, and...”
“Pah! The old “everyone does” excuse. I’ve heard that a thousand times from your older sisters but I never thought I’d hear it from you.”
“I’ll do the job well, Papa, but...”
“Oh, yes, I’ve no doubt you’ll do the job well. You’re your father’s son, after all, while your sisters take after their mother. Frivolous, all three of them, but I never thought I’d hear you, my only son, being frivolous. Shorts! And new shoes! Your sisters can talk of nothing but shoes! Ugly things, those shoes they want to buy, and I don’t know how they walk on them. They’ll break their ankles, and then I’ll have six broken ankles with which to deal, and your mother will have to wait on those useless girls hand and foot. Heh heh, hand and foot, for shoes. That’s funny. But new shoes are not funny. I hope you never break any of your bones, Pierre. I hope you don’t want shoes with high heels, Pierre.”
“No, Papa, high heels would never do, but...”“But what, Pierre? You keep saying “and” and you keep saying “but” but you never tell me what it is you want to say!”
“Yes, Papa. If I’m going to deliver newspapers, I really must have a new bicycle, seriously, Papa.”
Posted by Magpie Tales, hosted by Willow.
Each week, Willow posts a photo to inspire writer-bloggers to write a poem or short vignette, of their own choice, based on what they see. This is my submission for Magpie 75.
To see how others used the "Cycles Sirius" photo to challenge their muses, please click
