Hello Everybody. What are you up to? Here the rains have come and are merrily hammering on the window and more high drama has erupted over in the corner of the table. I’m trying to ignore it because I have other fish to fry as it were. But you know the little houses; if they can drag everyone else in on their doings they will…
Sometimes, when I write these tales, I have a voice in my mind narrating it. Today’s would ideally be read by the fabulous Sarah James of www.findamaker.co.uk (https://www.instagram.com/find.amaker/) who I will be talking to on an Instagram Live on Tuesday next week if all goes to plan (a bit/very nervous about that if I’m honest but there we go. Details to follow soon…)
Anyway back to today’s troubles… Living on the Edge 146; Oh For the Wings of a Dove…
There had been a cliff top choir in the tiny village of Llanclogwyn since history had begun. Over the years it had waxed and waned as the population numbers rose and fell but, currently, every family had at least one member. Their music rang out across the sea and, if the wind was in the right direction, sailors sometimes claimed to hear the lure of mermaids.
The choir had been rehearsing for their concert, ‘Songs of the Sea’ for a few months now and were almost ready for a public performance. But. Somewhere in the mid reaches somebody was off-key. Everybody knew who it was but nobody wanted to say anything because she was very nice and always made the best cakes to bring to practice.During choir practice that week though, the decision was taken out of their hands by a usually very non-confrontational dove who had had enough of the cacophony and had decided to act. Fortunately, she, who will remain nameless, was elated. She had taken the dove’s intervention as evidence of having been singled out for special treatment, which, she had been. In a way… xxx
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