Latrine of Coleslaw

​I flushed in the face …the subject at the repast was who might be the lastest object of my affection…prone to moments of brash shyness I galloped across a platter of pulled pork  and a latrine of coleslaw ..bashing my head amongst some adjacent copper pots ..I spun on several deserts spoons …..the more fragile of our company retired to a safe distant …it was during a rather complex polonaise that I finally deliberate ..”she must …she must …have a camel ..she might shoot a rifle ..she may laugh if she pleases and she can can can” ..I bowed and climbed into the dishwasher ..pressed intense rinse and waited for the response…

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About mauricewoconnell

Maurice OConnell is a Creative based in Cornwall concentrating on Writing and Unique theatrical appearances.. He continues to imagine a world twice as exciting and dangerous than it could possibly ever be View all posts by mauricewoconnell

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