It's Still Life

At an Intersection Named After an English King and a Saint
Six Sentence Story: Part 31

Pierre’s Chair

Almost midnight: We walked to the Six Sentence Cafe and Bistro, rain bristling and wind hurting my ears – it rains at an angle, heedless of Pierre’s complaints, “… why did I bother to style my hair or polish my shoes,” …

… although Hanzō is as tough and unaffected by it all as a backstreet barber.

The Gatekeeper is nowhere to be seen, and Pierre’s eyeing a woman wearing Louboutin’s “So Kate” black heels, “Where’s Nick?” he asked, and she shrugs being as dismissive of him as his question was inattentive of her.

Pierre and Hanzō make their way to our usual table – I make my way for the bartender and the long mahogany bar.

“Hi,” I say, “Hi, Brigid,” the bartender returns my smile, “What would you like,” and I rattle off the order as if reciting the alphabet, “A Guinness Stout (room temp) for Hanzō, a decaf (white; no sugar) for Pierre so he’ll sleep tonight, and I’ll have my usual, please.”

I glance over at our table: Hanzō is helping Pierre lodge pieces of folded napkin under the front right leg of his chair, “It’s a wreck, it wobbles and it’s wonky,” Pierre complains, “Parbleu, cette sacrée chaise est instable, and its all askew and its screws are loose.”

And then Pierre slides from a grin into laughter and says, “It’s a perfect fit for me.”

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Music is a bit off the wall this morning. Enjoy “Syd’s Wonky Chair” by Penny Dreadfuls. Written for Denise’s Six Sentence Story to include the word “wreck”.  Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2024.