So I was in my garrett, writing a new story that begins like this:
“If he asks, she will tell him she grew the flowers. In the garden bed behind the shed. She’d planted them in May, forgotten she’d even put them in.”
But it turns out the daylight robber I thought I could hear in the kitchen (below me) was a pigeon. And it turns out beagles are good at catching pigeons.
And the story is unlikely to be what I thought it would be when I began.
A few weeks ago one of these dogs bagged a pigeon. Which dog? My money is on the visiting labrador.
If she asks, he will tell her he found the feathers…
DID she grow the flowers behind the shed, or was it a fib she was planning?
Yes, we need to know what happens. You can’t leave us hanging like that. And anyway what flowers do you plant in May? Bulbs? Or is this how he knows she was making it up? Or are we in the northern hemisphere? So many questions, so little story.
Samuel Beckett: ‘If I had known the answer to that, I would have said so in the play.’
Samuel Beckett: ‘If I had known the answer to that, I would have said so in the play.’
My interpretation was that there were flowers, but their origin was questionable
He: Oh, those are nice, where did they come from?
She: I grew them…etc.
My garden is often strewn with bones and possum fur. I knew that dogs would be good at something.