He couldn’t get at the food, the branches were tangled and in his way. Even his long and slender neck was not suple enough, and the twigs seemed to move and prevent him gaining access to the grain a walker had scattered on the path.
If only he had swum a few yards, he could have stepped out of the water to reach the food he needed, but for some reason he would not. Maybe it was the dogs that were walked along the path? Something had frightened it and made it wary. So it was that it stared at the food but never reached it. Thankfully another walker strolled along later and threw duck food into the lake. Finally sated the Swan swam away to its bed in the reeds….
What’s in the box? She asked. I couldn’t say he replied. It just arrived in the post.
They sat and drank coffee.
Open it? She said. No wait till Chrismas he replied.
That was three days ago. Now it was Christmas morning. Let’s open it now, she said? After lunch, he said.
Each time they put it off, the tiny Christmas elf in the box got weaker, hungrier, angrier. It had been posted to bestow three wishes. Now it had decided the wishes granted would be its own. It would start by attacking whoever opened the box.
Indoor and outdoor boys are getting closer to each other. They slept about a foot apart for about an hour tonight. Now outdoor boy is sitting in the arm of my chair and purring loudly. I stroked his chin and he dribbled on my hand. He’s not quite used to being stroked though. I think he doesn’t want to be disturbed, just to he allowed to sleep in the warm. My indoor cats love being fussed. He’s settled again. I think he might sleep now.
I’m hungry, only had breakfast today, my hubby isn’t interested. He had a big meal and doesn’t want anything, but I’m hungry. Went to the fridge, he’s already eaten something I had bought for both of us. He’s eaten both portions. I told him he’s a black hole, engulfing everything edible in sight.
I have some fresh beetroot and I’m thinking of making hummus with it, with some brown bread. But I have to cook it. He doesn’t really cook, he can do boiled egg on toast. The trouble is I have been so disappointed by his cooking that I take over. Its worrying because if anything happens to me will he cope? So anyway, I’m fed up (not fed). I feel like going on strike!