Thursday, May 05, 2016

Sing a song of sixpence

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Sing a song of sixpence
A pocket full of rye

“Putain!” Monsieur Auguste gave a one fingered salute to the birds.

“Imbecile flying turd buckets,” he muttered angrily.

It hadn’t always been like this.  The leisurely walk to work from his quarters to main kitchen had been a source of pleasure.  The immaculate gardens with its beautiful flowers always gave a reason to smile.  That happiness was then reflected in the food he created.

But for the past year the avian menace was getting to him.

“What’s for dinner?” inquired the King.


“Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie”
**
Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100

Sometimes one must look at the funny side of life no matter what it throws at you.

To fly with the birds this week click here.