In the last post: Dick Charmer wanted to rest and eat. His neighbour, Olive, wanted to flirt...
Dear friends, if you like a good chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the entire story when published.Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 07Dick Charmer flashed an icy smile at Olive. She lay on a sunbed in the neighbouring garden, sucked a cherry from its stick, removed her sunglasses, and winked.
A frustrated old housewife, he thought. The Stables teemed with pretty young girls, stinking rich too, who were much more to his taste. He gave a half-hearted wave, stifled a yawn, and hurried back indoors to eat and rest.
Today was Thursday, disco night at Ye Olde Inn. After weeks of hard labour on the terrace house roof, where he'd played loud music and cavorted for his audience of rich young girls, he knew they’d be desperate to dance with him.
Later that evening, just as the last blush of daylight faded, he closed his front door and made toward the sound of music. It drew him like nectar to a bee. Tomorrow, he reckoned his work on the roof would be finished, but tonight, the time had come to harvest his booty.
Luckily, the pebble road was dry after so many days of fine weather; his dancing shoes weren’t suitable for mud and soft dung. As he walked, his steps fell into time with the music’s beat, and his shoulders and hips began to swing and sway. He flexed his fingers and kissed each tip in turn. At the disco, he’d treat his doting fans to his best moves.
To be continued…
Image by Gerd Altmann from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
bloglovin
’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
A frustrated old housewife, he thought. The Stables teemed with pretty young girls, stinking rich too, who were much more to his taste. He gave a half-hearted wave, stifled a yawn, and hurried back indoors to eat and rest.
Today was Thursday, disco night at Ye Olde Inn. After weeks of hard labour on the terrace house roof, where he'd played loud music and cavorted for his audience of rich young girls, he knew they’d be desperate to dance with him.
Later that evening, just as the last blush of daylight faded, he closed his front door and made toward the sound of music. It drew him like nectar to a bee. Tomorrow, he reckoned his work on the roof would be finished, but tonight, the time had come to harvest his booty.
Luckily, the pebble road was dry after so many days of fine weather; his dancing shoes weren’t suitable for mud and soft dung. As he walked, his steps fell into time with the music’s beat, and his shoulders and hips began to swing and sway. He flexed his fingers and kissed each tip in turn. At the disco, he’d treat his doting fans to his best moves.
To be continued…
Image by Gerd Altmann from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
bloglovin
’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
No comments have been added yet.
