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…


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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