Wednesday, 27 April 2016

Holiday hat moving made easy.



'You said 'a few',' said Horace.

'I'm sorry,' Norma replied. 'I admit there are a couple more than I thought there'd be. We tried to be as ruthless about it as we could.'

'It looks dangerous.'

'I think it'll be fine if you take it slowly. We've stacked them quite carefully.'

Horace looked nervous. 

'What if they fall?'

'They shouldn't,' Norma replied.

'They might.'

'Look, it's not far and they're light enough. They're only hats after all.'

Horace took another look at, what to him, seemed a precarious stack.

'Do you want to push or pull?' he asked.

'Actually,' Norma replied, 'I've got to go...but Bertha's here to help.'

'GO!' mooed Horace.

'It's just,' Norma began, 'I think I aught to get to the beach, where we're all meeting. Only I have a feeling that Captain Bill and Cyril and Annie will be there by now and...you know.'

'What?' Horace asked.

'Well,' Norma replied, 'although I'm sure they'll all try to get along with each other... there is, what I might loosely term, a potential situation.'

And with that she turned and ran down the hill.

'Right,' said Bertha, 'I'll push, you pull. Keep an eye on our direction, avoid potholes, keep the speed steady, let me know if anything is shaking loose and don't let it lean to one side.'

'............................................................................................................I'm a poet!' Horace replied.


2 comments:

Gina said...

Can't see how else you would stack hats...other than on your head...stop being a wimp Horace. Think of the potential for a poem of great tragedy should the stack waiver :D XXX

Armenoi said...

Oh my goodness. A POET with a turn for the morose, and a sculptress with a sharp turn. It sounds like there is definitely a potential here, as well as on the beach. All that energy waiting to be released. I see hats going everywhere, followed by lots of string - mark my words.