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There’s a spare chair at the farmer’s table tonight, their mate Ned’s not present as he passed away the other day, and to make things even more poignant, today would have been his birthday; “at least we won’t have to fork out for a present this year” said Colin – normally their gift would have been a pint of ale which they’d all chip in for.
“We’d best keep his seat warm in case his son Ted wants to take his place”, said Fred, “he’ll be running the farm alone now”; “he’ll probably turn up here in fancy dress” said Colin, “you know how much he likes it, last Halloween he spent all day dressed as a vampire and as he drove his tractor past the scarecrow and it Bolted across the field like Usain in a straw wig!”
“You must be busy lambing now, George, I don’t know how you put up with spending all that time with your arm up a sheep’s jacksee” said Arthur; “you get used to it,” said George, “but a couple of days ago I forgot to put a glove on and when I pulled my hand out, my wedding ring had disappeared” – “looks like your married to that sheep now” joked Bill!
The pub door flung open and in came Picasso Pete, “evenin’ all” he said as he took his place at the table, “I’ve got something especially for you Ted, it’s a picture I drew this morning”, and with that, he presented him with a piece of paper.
Ted unfolded it and his eyes nearly popped out when he saw the drawing, “wow, she’s stunning, what a beautiful woman, who is it and why are you giving it to me?” he asked; “don’t you know?” asked Pete, “it’s your wife you silly hay-bale, I was in the coffee shop this mornin’ and she was sittin’ a few tables away, and as I had my pad and pencil I thought I’d draw her”; “if she looked like that I wouldn’t be sitting here with you lot, I’d be at home enjoying some hanky-pank…” – “Oy, yelled Landlord Len, I’ll have none of that lewd language in my pub!”
“Who’s round is it?” asked Colin, “strictly speaking it’s Ned’s” said Pete, but as Ned’s dead, home I’ll head, and climb into bed with the lass that I wed”; “so now you’re Poet Pete” said Ted, “will you be bringing me a poem about my missus next week?” – “maybe, we’ll see, farewell to thee” he said as he bowed and left.
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Thanks to Denise for hosting Six Sentence Stories where this week’s given word is Present.

Haha! What hilarious event will happen next week!
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Thanks, Sadje, I dread to think!
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😅😅😅
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That’s exactly what I’m wondering, Sadje!
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😂
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is that not cool or what*
To create tiny little worlds populated with engaging/aggravating/hilarious/devious characters with so much ‘realness’ that we can’t swear to what it is they will do/say/shout the next time they take the stage>
*sorry, my comment is a bit of thread-jumping, responding to your reply to Sadje,
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It’s becoming a bit of a challenge, but I’ll plough on!
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This is a laugh riot
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Cheers, Beth!
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What a wild way to lose one’s wedding ring. Nice description of that incident with the sheep during lambing season.
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Unfortunate, to say the least! Thanks so much, Frank.
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Fab!🤣
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Thanks, Chris!
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Rich and full, this!
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Thanks, Vee!
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You’re welcome always.
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It’s always a delight to spend time with your characters.
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I like being around them too!
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Good to be back at the Baaamy Inn, Keith. Missed hanging out here!
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