Friday, 4 January 2013

My Life As Rumpelstiltskin

Her last act that day was to burn the mistletoe. It's acrid smoke tainted the air where he 
was lying on the sofa, bare foot propped up on two cushions. His audition for the part of Rumpelstiltskin had not gone well. The floorboards in the house were of solid oak and 
came off considerably better than his foot. He'd delayed his visit to A & E. The truth felt 
like too foolish a thing to tell. Besides, how could he have danced that evening if his foot 
had been broken? 

In normal circumstances, he never danced. That's what kind of an evening it was. 



3 comments:

  1. This is very good. The acrid smoke is a magical touch.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you WB. I very much enjoyed your Branches series. The pictures are a welcome addition to your fine blog.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Cheers! Very glad you enjoyed them.

    ReplyDelete

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