It's Still Life

Count On It

……. my eyes are pinned to workmen down the street, yellow and white stripe van with little amber lights on top, and they’re pulling thick cables from a wooden spool, the likes of which would make an interesting table for the patio, a great improvement on our wrought iron one with the paint giving way to an eruption of rust, and I hear muffled voices upstairs, which I assume is the radio, although it could be my mister talking to himself, or possibly even talking to me from the far end of the house, and probably from behind a closed door, and he’s thinking that I can hear him when often he can’t even hear himself, example: claiming that he never snores, which is a bold-face denial if ever I heard one, and now those workmen have paused for a coffee, which is exactly what I’m doing – something about the day’s first cup of coffee that seems to work better than any that come after it – much like a glass of wine, by which I mean that the first one always does what you want it to do, but the second one does nothing more for you than give you a whirligig head and a thick tongue that makes a hash of speech, and you can count on that. That’s for sure. 

Written for Linda Hill’s #jusjojan and Stream of Consciousness Saturday “Count On It”. AI Digital Art is mine and created using Midjourney’s bot (v4). Image and poem ©Misky 2023 Shared on Twitter #amwriting @midjourney