Seated by the seashore in the sunshine with some corn

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“Take a load off on the sunny side of the winter’s storm” Gun Roswell

Seated by the seashore in the sunshine with some corn

The afternoon sun, reflected off of the freshly fallen snow, now covering the frozen waterscape. A solemn bench still remained by the seashore sat, as if waiting for someone to take a load off a spend a moment to escape, especially, on such a fine day. Alas the streets were quite empty, not really sure as to what that had prompted, as not one single passer-by was anywhere to find, even if the sunshine, should have tempted everyone out and about for a stroll or a simple fresh breath to allow. Hours passed again, the sun ready to set in, for the night ahead, but still, a few rays dared to peel through and then, one creature courageous enough, had come out and was now, seated, on the very bench, in the sunshine still at reach, snacking on his big acorn, delighted to do it in some peace and quiet as usually, finding such spot, would instantly cause a riot. But today, he got some alone time, surely rare, in the big city, open wide.

The cat who wrote books

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“A cat writing and sipping coffee? Yes, well, like cat keeper, like feline, it’s all good and fine” Gun Roswell

Photo credit Cats of Instagram

The cat who wrote books

With her specs on, and coffee beside there, quite strong, the tabby cat, in her comfortable pullover and hat, neatly sat. The page in front, still empty, but it would not take too long, especially after the dark liquid kicked in, for something really good to come forth. After all, this was not her first round with the ink and blank paper, as several stories already written stood on the bookshelf alone. But this one would be very special, as it was going to about role reversals. A biography of sorts, she made a slight snort, a laughing sound in a kitty cat way, as she turned to look, on the sleepy face, purring contently right beside her. The once keeper, now a content pet, the Hooman of a female, who had this cat let, out of her box and now, the lot, would have the privilege, of reading all them booklets, written by the very cat, who on the bedside sat, sipping coffee and typing with a flow the next number one best seller which would everyones minds blow.

Not, without my Coffee!

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“Never leave the house, without, a) having a cup of coffee before or at least, b) a to go cup of coffee with you” Gun Roswell

Not, without my Coffee!

The morning usually starting, with at least, one cup of steaming, dark, hot, tongue popping delicious sustenance. But, if for some reason, and this could easily be called treason, there would be no coffee left in the house, because that louse of a memory, simply forgot, to restock the cupboards, with the one must item, you cannot without survive, then life, really is nothing, but a strife, spiralling quickly, down the nearest storm drain as after this experience, nothing would ever remain quite the same.

Alas a light at the end of the tunnel, as some sort of a food truck, just outside the housing complex had parked and the sweet, sweet smell of the wonderful drink, wafted to my nostrils just as I was on a brink, of total despair, seemingly, the situation unable to repair. But, with this turn of events, the total shock and horror could easily prevent, the fowl mood usually following a day’s start without coffee. So today, besides the most great tasting cup of the finest organic suspension ever devised by humankind, I also got myself a new best friend, a coffee vendor, from the Heavens sent. So, now sipping my coffee, quite happily, as that is the way any morning should be spent.

Oh, the world today! (as seen on the news)

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“Not today Satan, not today!” Bianca del Rio

Oh, the world today! (as seen on the news)

The news are pouring, as the world is loudly roaring, that which is all around an individual happening, nothing or no one it dampening. Someone in utmost urgency shouting “Oh the humanity of it all!” While others, are just shaking their collective heads, simply stating, “Luckily, not in my neighbourhood that kind of ball.” Well, maybe not at this very moment, but don’t hold your breath, it may just be all coming, to a place near you, only, in instalments. Because if you contently wait long enough, all that stuff, visible on the big screen TV, well, that just might happen quite close to home. This warning may chill you to the bone, but head the warnings and all that is bad in the world, and maybe, you’ll be safe and not into the chaos of it all be hurled.

Meanwhile: Somewhere in the corner of the Galaxy, Madam Satan is shivering in fear of the analogy, of the happenings on, the small and remote planet called Earth, on the large view screen of a boob tube. Without much of mirth, stating, quite simply, “I will need to get my refund of that soul I just bought, from that big white coloured house, oh what a louse!” shaking her head, “He is the one, a human one, who is pure with evil and would certainly be too much, even for me to handle!”

The red cottage in the forrest

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“The little red cottage in the middle of the forest, a dream for some” Gun Roswell

The red cottage in the forrest

It was painted in bright red, even if it clashed with all the green there, but still it remained hidden from prying eyes, even those who were considered spies. It was secured in the middle of the lushest and thickest of tall trees, from the ground up to the heavens it solemnly stood, and there was nothing or no one able to get to it either on foot or any other method. A tiny thing it might have been, alas a safe haven for the courageous builders, who had it up and run by the simplest of materials to be found, erected from the ground, not as a big or lasting monuments, but something more realistic and non-pollutant. A small cottage, in the middle of the thickest forest, a fable to most, but a home for few, who could appreciate the lure, of a simple yet sufficient dwelling, never ever it for any reward to be selling.

The warm light of the candle or a roll in the cold snow

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“I can take you in warm or I can take you in cold” Din Djarin

The warm light of the candle or a roll in the cold snow

The candle light flickered, softly in the darkening evening, warming, if you dared to touch it with your finger. Carefully so not to disturb the flame burning the small wick, a gentle touch with my finger tip, just to rid of the numbness of the extremity sore and blue, soon enough, turning into a reddish hue. Warmth spreading throughout the frozen body, feeling alive again after the coldness of the wintry distress, never again, thinking of fire any less.

As earlier the foolish endeavour outside to venture, the fresh cool white powdery stuff from the opened up skies fell down, pouring not tricking, but no pain inflicting. Soft and inviting it looked from the comfortable stance of the window sill, alas, when spending time outside, playing like a kid, clothes soaked through from rolling around in the wet and cold snow, soon the voices of cheer got awfully low. Coughing and sneezing, breath, wheezing. Arms, legs, even the fatty butt, starting to get numb. The only option, was stop all the fun, and run inside, or at least crawl, as there was no getting up from the fall.

So, now, remaining inside, while others might go wild, of the changed environment, so fresh and crispy and inviting. But, knowing better than to dare again, venture out here, where freezing is the possibility, no, the inevitability, rather staying here, by the hypnotising warm and soothing fire without dire.

Snowy road

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“There is so much snow out there today, that you will need a sleigh, to make it through, which is not bad at all” Gun Roswell

Snowy road

Snow covered the roadside, as it had been pouring the night before, during, a storm. The surrounding fields, laid under, a soft blanket, woven in threads of white, all of it, looking like something of a holiday book, the seasonal nook, to lay comfortably on. But what ever looks good, is not always putting you in the best of moods, as there was still the road to tackle, and as it was, much like the surrounding grounds, a mass of white powder, rather than a set of clear tracks. What to do now, as the trip to the nearest shop was not plowed? There were a few options, coming to mind, some of them, none too kind, like pouring hot water all over the place, but what was the point, as freezing would only result in using skates, but those were clearly out of shape. Then the pair of skis, against the wall standing, made of some old tree. Nope, the poles were gone, so sliding with a wooden frame under your feet, seemed too much of a feat. When all hope seemed to be gone, one hopeful thing appeared, from the very rear, of the open shed, visible only while looking really carefully. An old sledge, just there, on the edge! On closer inspection, it seemed to be in pretty good condition, considering it had not been used, in many years since the past, when all of us adults, were kids and thus, riding the ridges, like having plenty of fire under our bridges. But reminisce aside, this would be our very ride, taking us across the snowy roads, with a small sleigh in our tow.

Across the snowy bridge

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“The winter time can be quite magical, if you let it be” Gun Roswell

Across the snowy bridge

Not quite frozen but not really flowing either, the slow flowing creek now, in the middle of the winter. As the snow covering it, could be just a trick, tempting to step on it, even if none too safe at that. But, thinking of it really carefully and acting accordingly, maybe a safe passage across the Schrödingers’ bridge dilemma of a watery way, could be solved in a fashion without missing the play. A large tree, just up the creek, might just be the answer to that which you seek, as a tall branch once, now laid on the ground, acting like a makeshift bridge, as if it was simply made for exactly this. Snowy and slippery it was, but crossing it, would be a blast, an adventure in the middle of the winter, although, maybe with a few splinters. And that was the magical thing of it all, as you never really could be sure as to what to expect, so better always to be, watching that next step before leap.

A hidden message in the fresh snow

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“A smiley face inside a heart, drawn in the fresh snow – just a simple reminder of happiness and love” Gun Roswell

A hidden message in the fresh snow

A child’s play or an adults joke, was right there, in plain sight, just to poke, those familiar feelings, long since forgotten, dormant in the depths of the very protected soul of a being, once called human, now only fleeing, from any kind of warm contact. Even, the cool, calm exterior, the stoic stance, was all, just an act, it did not matter because nothing and no one would ever be able to attack, those inner hidden qualities, most of thought now lost for good. But suddenly, the hidden message written in a messy drawing, stirred something there, and now, without any kind of fear, and odd expression emerged from out of nowhere, half scaring the passers by, as it was also included with a loud noise. What on earth? Someone exclaimed, as the laughter and a smile, so filled with life and opened wide. It must have been a sign, that the end of the world was near. Alas, the owner of said oddity, did not care, but stood and stared, at the message and never letting, that good feeling, fade away. Not at least, today. No, but maybe, tomorrow, it would all go back to normal, what ever that meant.

01.01.2021

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“Nothing like saying goodbye to bad rubbish” Gun Roswell

01.01.2021

The new leaf turned as the New Year started
Gone was the good with the bad and the ugly, dearly departed
Now looking forward already plotting the new targets
But was this an elaborate ruse, designed by the market?
Making once again believe in me hope, when it all smarted?

Miracles do happen, someone might have said
And that in itself should have to plenty suspicions led
But the fool hearted believers had so many tears shed
As each and every day it had gotten harder up from bed to get
So, instead of casting all hope, deciding to expect better ahead

A new year, a new hope, a new time, to make all right
This was the mantra now after being tired of all the fights
Self doubt, closing the mouth, no more foul out sprout
Nothing was going to stop this year turning to something great
Even if in the back of the mind a thought off all being too late

But hey, what else could go wrong?