Tag Archives: #Conversation

‘A day out’

“Shall we just skip tomorrow?”

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“Miss a day out?”

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“Well, it’s only a Wednesday; different if it had been a Friday, or the weekend.”

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“True – and we’ll go straight to Thursday.”

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“One day closer to that aforementioned weekend.”

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“Yay!”

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“But what about everybody else?”

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“Them? They will have to get through Wednesday as Best as they can.”

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“Under their own steam.”

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“Making their own Wednesday mistakes.”

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“And good luck to them I say.”

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“I think I’ll just say to them: ‘See you later, suckers!”

The lady with the purple hare

“I’m looking for the lady with the purple hare:?

“Have you lost her?”

“Them.”

“Ah. Okay. Still no.”

“Okay, thanks anyway.”

“You’re welcome.”

Jack Daw

‘The’ Jack Daw,

in person,

no doppelgängers,

or lookie-likies,

to confuse the issue.

“Where shall we eat?”

I ask, politely,

mindful of my manners.

“Here! Now!”

cried Jack,

in his coarse voice.

We ate, and conversed little –

such was the fine fare on offer –

and then, rudely,

I would say;

Jack just flew away:

Offering: a Conversation

So, what’s that then?

It’s an offering to the gods.

What that?

Yup!

The knob end of your pasty?

Sorry, I meant it’s an offering to the gulls.

Oh, now that makes a bit more sense.

Yup.

SFX Echoing Gull squawk

Colour Blind (A tale of derring-don’t!)

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“The boy who finds the cricket ball in the long grass may be blind to colours”

You often overhear the words of others…
And think

Considering camouflage
Contemplating the conversations
Querying comments:

“If you get a colour-blind man;
He can often (though not always)
Distinguish the outlines of a camouflaged object
Unseen by most others!”

This obviously doesn’t work (in my mind)
With ‘blind’ men.
It’s ‘curtains!’ for them
When it comes to seeking
Cricket balls lurking in the green, green grass of home –
Or, anywhere, for that matter;
So, they wouldn’t be much use
To return the aforesaid ball
To the previously unmentioned bowler
To use
To bowl
At the inferred batter
Or ‘batsman’ to be correct;
And, not to be confused with Batman
Who is a completely different ball game.

#justsaying #nananananananananananananananana

It Takes ‘One’ To Have A Conversation – #NaPoWriMo

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“Something cheery!”
Is the cry from my soul
“Give the bleak stuff a miss;
Nobody wants your miserable poems…
Or your depressing tales of woe and lakes that be gone!”

“Haha!” I retort. “That was a convoluted pun worthy of…
… me.”
I consider this a victory of sorts
“And another thing…”
I await the conclusion to this
“…your ‘funny’ poems and stories are
funny ‘peculiar’ and not that funny ‘haha!’ ”
I just consider this
“Have you finished?” I ask –
After a while (it is not the best response; but; I’ll have to make do with the lame duck that it is.
“I could say more; but, you are already unsure what to reply – you are that sort of guy!”
True. Yet, I felt that I needed to respond in a more positive way – but, what to say?
“La la la. Are you ‘rebooting?’ Seems like you’ve slipped into a coma. There’s a definite aroma of defeat in your ‘feet!’ ”
“Very droll!” I counter. “And I suppose that ‘you’ are such a ‘witty’ and unutterably ‘smart-mouthed, wise-cracking, purveyor of repartee, that you are not ‘me!’ ”
“Was that a question? You ended it with an exclamation mark. Your grammar is awful.”
She’s been dead for sixty-five years.”
“No, not your grandma!”
“Do you mean my ‘Nan?’ Thirty-five years.”
“I suppose you are an orphan.”
“Was that ‘rhetorical?’ ”
“Might have been.”
“You’re just playing with me now.”
“You are playing with yourself.”
“Cheeky!”
“So, what are you going to do about it?”
“Give myself a stiff telling off.”
“As if that will work!”
“Worth a try.”
“Whatever! Bored now. Gonna leave you to your pond life of a life. Goodbye!”
“Ciao! And good riddance!”
“Don’t you worry, I’ll be back!”
“Thanks for the cheery note, Arnie!”
“Blah! Blah! Blah!”

They part – to be continued.