Tanning
the Torso
Albert slumbered peacefully in his beautiful garden beside
the canal. It was summertime, when the long boats would
putter past in tranquil smoothness and he enjoyed the murmur
of voices as they glided along while he was gardening. Intriguing
snippets of conversation would tantalise and leave him wondering…who
they were, where had they travelled from, where bound?
Today was his first opportunity to relax behind the concealing
bushes. Wearing only a pair of briefs and hoping to tan
his white torso, he was at one with Nature.
Hearing the water lap in movement, he opened his eyes and
peered through the leaves, just in time to see a tanned
man lift an axe aloft and bring it down onto a recumbent
figure, decapitating it with one blow. He then removed the
head and dropped it in the water.
Albert froze in shock and was grateful because he didn’t
wish to be seen. The boat glided on, leaving a trail of
blood in its wake as the man chopped off each limb and dropped
it into the water.
“Albert” screeched the voice of his wife Martha,
“want a cup of tea?”
When there was no reply, she screeched again. “What
are you up to?”
“Nothing much” he replied. “Just dead
heading, pruning a few branches and tanning my torso”.
He looked affectionately at his arms and legs, stroking
his head thoughtfully. |
|
| |
“As
I wrote, I was thinking about the stretch
of canal which runs parallel with Shaw Hall Bank
Rd. and where the houses have gardens which slope
down to the canal.” |
|