THE PRINCE
The neighbourhood was in
uproar and Petey watched from the garden, thrilled by the blue flashing lights. Eventually
his mum called him inside for tea. “Your friend Lucy’s missing.”
Petey ate a chip. “Mum – how long is a hundred
years?”
“A very long time,
darling.”
“More than one ordinary sleep?”
“A lot more – why?”
“Because Lucy’s sleeping for
a hundred years.”
His mum sat down with a
thump. “Petey – do you know where she is?”
Petey waved his fork
nonchalantly. “Course I do – I’ve got to chop through the hedge and kiss her.”
He pulled a face. “I’ll go after tea.”
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Thanks as always to https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/ for the photo that prompted this story. I almost wrote one about my Pa, whom the scent of box hedges always brings to mind, so here is one of my favourite photos of him, taken many years ago.
