“A horse came into the pub and the landlord said ‘Why the long face?’”
We all groaned having heard it a thousand times before. Bob is notorious for recycling old jokes. “Just for that it’s your round,” said Jim.
An elderly gentleman sat alone at the next table, staring into his pint. He muttered something.
”Pardon?” asked Bob.
“Horses have feelings,” he said, still looking down. “I lived on a barge when I was a kid. My parents took coal up and down the canal. A horse pulled us along. Ned, his name. Sometimes I rode on his back”.
He took a sip of ale. “After my parents died I carried on. Ned and I were friends, the only friend I ever had. I knew when he was happy, I could see him smile. I knew when he was weary too which is why one day I decided he had to retire. I said he needed to go away. Ned looked me straight in the eye, and I swear he shed a tear” The old gentleman sighed and raised his head. “Ned, he passed away the next day”.
He struggled to his feet, grabbed his cane and limped off.
“A lobster came into the….” Shut up Bob we yelled.
Sunday Photo Fiction is hosted by Susan Spaulding. J S Brand provided the photo