“Go drown yourself somewhere!”
She’d said slamming the door in his face. The flowers he’d lovingly picked now lay amongst banana peels and toffee wrappers. He wondered if someday she would miss him.
It was high tide lit up by the full moon. The waves crashed against the rocks below him throwing up a salty spray in his face. If not for the railing he could have walked into the sea.
Someone appeared to his left.
“Repeat your order sir?”
He nodded as the bartender poured the amber liquid into his glass. He was glad he had taken her advice.
“Sorry to intrude but may I ask where you bought that exquisite hat? It’s my sister’s birthday soon and she would love something like that.”’
“It’s from a store around the corner.”
Pretty ones were the easiest to charm. 3 hours and many martinis later Neil dropped the intoxicated lady to a cab.
She didn’t realize he still had her hat. She would probably call for it tomorrow but the number on his card would direct her to the post office.
This was the 87th in his collection. It was doubtlessly a more exciting hobby than collecting stamps and postcards.
The tents were pitched and posters had been pasted across town. Tomorrow would be the first show and tonight everything should have been in perfect order.
Squeaky, the pig was turning white at the top of the ladder. It wasn’t the 25foot drop; the trouble was the tub of water below. Squeaky had developed a sudden case of aquaphobia.
At the far end, the dancing dogs had drunk too much whiskey and were serenading the yellowing moon.
Beethoven watched the chaos as he pulled handkerchiefs from his hat. He needed to switch jobs. Maybe he should start making music.