out of the mouths of babes
Sweet light of evening on the streets of old Athy.
I stroll across the bridge towards the castle.
Behind me the music of children.
Surreptitious barely suppressed giggles.
I turn.
Two teenage girls, graceful, shy, a few years from being very pretty indeed.
They are looking at me and whispering and giggling some more.
A quizzical expression creases my gentle preraphaelite features.
"We read your book," says one from behind a curtain of shining blonde hair.
Her impish faced brown haired friend chimes in.
"Yeah," sez she, "it was shite."
Ah the belles of old Athy.
Skilled in the arts of lovemaking, bar fighting and imparting existential truisms.
It was ever so.
I stroll across the bridge towards the castle.
Behind me the music of children.
Surreptitious barely suppressed giggles.
I turn.
Two teenage girls, graceful, shy, a few years from being very pretty indeed.
They are looking at me and whispering and giggling some more.
A quizzical expression creases my gentle preraphaelite features.
"We read your book," says one from behind a curtain of shining blonde hair.
Her impish faced brown haired friend chimes in.
"Yeah," sez she, "it was shite."
Ah the belles of old Athy.
Skilled in the arts of lovemaking, bar fighting and imparting existential truisms.
It was ever so.
posted by heelers | 9:43 PM
3 Comments:
Now there's a pair of sweethearts. They're off to a good start, I'd say. Not.
Don't you worry young James, in my professional opinion, from a totally sufficient cursory description, those girls couldn't read anyway, they'd just seen your pre-raphaelite features on t' cover.
Oh its always good to be disliked by teenagers. Ask me. I love the stuff I hated a few years ago.
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