The City that never sleeps. Towering silver skyscrapers, reach up into the night sky, their multitude of lights polluting the darkness. Lights of every shape, size, and color flashing, pointing, advertising sex or liquor. A heaving tide of late-night revelers shuffle along the crowded sidewalks; yellow cabs and cars the size of spaceships, their drivers gesticulating and honking horns in frustration, clog the Streets. The City that never sleeps.
The silence of the monochrome interior of the glass-fronted apartment on the 74th floor was broken.
“That was one hell of a fantastic night out!”
“It sure was. I haven’t had that much fun in donkeys. I’m glad it wasn’t raining, I despise going out in the wet. “
“Yeah, ditto. I felt a tad uneasy on the dance floor in that nightclub; for the first five minutes anyway. Did you see up that women’s dress? It was hard to miss, she wasn’t shy at all.”
“I saw, and that flirty bitch don’t know how close she was to getting a good kicking.”
“Now now, don’t get jealous, I made things up to you under the table. Did I not.”
“BOY! You sure did. If there’s one thing I love it’s the intimacy of under a table.
I hope you don’t me saying, but you were starting to smell a bit erm sweaty.”
“And so were you. As a matter of fact, the word whiffy springs to mind.”
“Whiffy am I. “
“Yes, you bloody well are; and you’re black!”
“Hark at the kettle calling the pot black, you’re black too.”
“It’s a good job, we’d look stupid together otherwise.”
“You can have black and white together you know. There doesn’t have to be a hard border between the two.”
“I suppose you’re right. Married together correctly the two colors go well together.”
“They do! Now change the record.”
“I wonder when and where we’re going next.”
“Lord knows. As long as we are together, I care not.”
On that tender note, the two shoes, side by side, in front of the patio door closed their eyelets and went to sleep.
Nighty night everyone.
Next Week, join Mr. and Mrs. Welly on a trip to the Pig Farm.
Great fun Mick and a neat twist – I wasn’t sure where it was going. Vivid descriptions of the life of the city and the dialogue makes for a pair of characters đŸ™‚
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Hello, Andrea, it’s great to hear from you, and as always, your comment is encouraging; thank you.
When it comes to putting my thoughts into words, I get mixed up; I’m out of practice.
The idea came to me after a friend who lives in Brussels sent me a photo of a pair of his shoes on the floor of his apartment. The few words on the bottom of the page read: write something about these.
That, coupled with my annoyance at having being force-fed this multicolour, multi-culture issue through the television and down my throat.
I suppose it could be understood as a long-overdue acceptance of the issue.
Anyway, how’s Winston getting on? I hope you are all well.
When you’re out walking this month, listen out for Chiff Chaff. There’s something special about hearing a February Chiffy.
Keep well, Andrea, catch you soon.
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