by mikesteeden
A long, long time ago, when the very centre of Old London Town had more sweet sparrows than possessive pigeons, less romantic daydreamers, ignored penniless streetwalkers, and, for the sake of mentioning it, few horseless carriages.
Whatever, it was at The Big Smoke aside The Thames there lived an irresistible young lady who was neither black nor white. Sadly, she had a problem in life. You see, she’d always had a lack of interest when it came to the human race. Detached from normality, she spent most of her time in the gigantic loft that was more or less hers ever since the assassinations of the twosomes she’d thought of as her guardian angels, for no other reason than they protected and guided her on the murky streets, streets fit only for bogeymen. At least she had a new partner in the loft. A Soho prostitute as it happened. Together, they enjoyed each other to the extent that they shared the same bed.
Also, in that outside world of fear and cruelty, she was well aware that those of black skin adored her, while as others, the smelly white masses, hated her with a passion. Why so such loathing of her? To that she never knew.
Her name? She never could tell a living soul. Her challenge in life? To speak the English language rather than howling at others when they said ‘hello’. Her acceptable wish? To remain a cross-breed tail-wagger, loved by her lady of easy virtue.
It seems that I’ve lived in a rusty bucket down a dark hole of late when it comes to ‘blogs’…’blogs’ a word I’ve mentioned before for no other reason than I can’t stand it, such is this silly old fool that I am. For the record, all I’ve been doing since thinking without a sound has been merely penning a new book, ‘A GYPSY ANGEL IN PARADISE’ as well as wondering what’s next in the land of imagination. Whatever, the short tale above is one I live in hope that you might have a soft spot for. Who knows. Lastly, should you fancy any of my previous tomes they can be spotted in Amazon across hither and yon. Below, my son’s black and white doglet, Miss Rosie. All the best, Mike

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