After a celebration meal, again at their favourite raw fish restaurant, the Prescotts and Suzanna returned to the mansion in the sky. Mr. and Mrs. Prescott amused themselves with some music. Patricia played the piano and Ryan watched and listened. Suzanna and Zara went straight to the pool to watch the geckoes and other little creatures either lazing about or looking for something to eat. They had the option of going to a party. Neither Suzanna nor Zara was interested.
“Okay, what’s okay.”
“We’ll write poems.”
“Remember the things we do in English class.”
Suzanna hit Zara in the arm.
“So I guess that is a yes.”
Zara jumped up out of the pool fast enough for Suzanna to jump from surprise. She followed Zara back to her cabin to sit in the swinging chair on the front deck with Zara and her tablet.
“Once upon a time there was a little goat.
He liked to eat the grass by the castle moat.”
“You do the next two.”
Suzanna leaned into Zara so she could get her arms through Zara’s arms and onto the tablet. Much more fun than voice recognition. That could be annoying.
“In the glade beyond were many a sheep.
They were used for wool and for meat.”
“That’s sad, Suzanna.”
“For the sheep. Not for the humans.”
“And I suppose it will be mostly humans and not sheep that read our collection of poems.”
“We’re doing a collection.”
“We already have one. Another one would be a collection.”
Suzanna bit into Zara’s arm until Zara flexed her muscles.
“I’ve got a couple Limericks. I wrote them for school. We could put those in. If you think they are good enough.”
“Let’s hear them.”
“There was a young maiden from Madrid.
Who wore a pink hat on her head.
So pretty was she.
But for a small fee.
Most anyone could take her to bed.”
“I like it. That will be the first in the limerick chapter. Did you write any more.”
“There once was a girl named Sally.
Who lived in a box in the alley.
Her mom she did kill.
For she left her the will.
And she moved to a home in the valley.”
“That one’s great. It’s in. I think I remember one I wrote.”
“The Red Riding Hood one.”
“You remember that.”
“Suzi, a few people remember that.”
“Little Red Riding Hood lived by the lake.
She loved a little boy by the name of Jake.
He loved a girl too.
By the name of Sue.
She was quite pretty but her tits were fake.”
About the Author
Born in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada 1960. Moved to London, Ontario, Canada in 1967. Started playing hockey and piano. Went to Sir Wilfred Laurier High School and played the trumpet. Studied Architectural Technology at Fanshawe College of Applied Arts and Sciences. Started playing guitar and writing a little. On a trip to the mountains in 1982 with a friend I decided, or was awakened to the knowledge that I was going to pursue writing. Graduated 1984 and moved to Toronto. Moved to Saarbrücken, Germany in 1993. Have traveled many places in North, Middle and South America and Europe. Besides reading and writing also work on photography and music.