Ouch ouch ouch… my new cactus pricked my finger and now it hurts to type. Ouch. It was a Christmas pressie from my friend Rosey and it’s huge. Let’s try a different finger. Drvc##byyuuv07yh#. Perhaps not.
Christmas will soon be but a memory, chased away by the approaching New Year. How poetic! I call these in-between days Twixtmas!
What the hell was that bang? Hang on. Oh, a balloon just broke free and landed on that blasted cactus. Where was I?
Oh yes, 2018. It’s been…erm…err…mmmm. What exciting things happened? I bought some new shoes. Brownish. Nice. I had another birthday. Oh, found a tenner on the pavement. A good omen I thought. ‘This time next year Rosey, we’ll be millionaires!’ I yelled! (If you’re not a Brit you’re probably wondering why on earth I wrote that!) At least it paid for a couple of beers.
What else? Oh yes, almost forgot – I got married! Yeah! Actually, I didn’t, just winding you up. Not even wishful thinking. Thrice bitten, frice shy!
2019 will be the year I do… something. I’ll plant that cactus in Rosey’s allotment for a start! Yes, it’s gonna be great. I hope. Happy New Year my friends!
Sunday Photo Fiction is hosted by Susan Spaulding. This week’s photo is by Joy Pixley