In which Burgher Russ goes north for his better health
Russell Degnan

Maladies, melodies and melancholy.

Plagued by all three, Burgher Russell de Hotham Esq. cut a sorry figures as they left the green roofed home of nailpolishblues.

An ache of the head and a nose that should have been running, indeed, would even have felt better had it been, but which seemed to only want to, left him feeling sorry for himself. Being the sort of intrepid traveller who faced all problems with the fortitude of a condottiere, the Burgher combined his illness with a listless melancholy, and the tuneless whistling of dirges.

The contiuing absence of the minstrel was not helping.

Nor, the sudden, even unexpected, absence of the sun.

The party trudged through the softly falling rain a good few hours, perhaps more, perhaps less, before one of their number sought to broach the delicate subject of their destination.

Burgher Russ looked up from his reverie, wiping the collected rain, and other, perhaps not so foreign liquids from his face.

"Oh... a destination..."

Leadership is much harder in the rain.

"Perhaps over this hill?" he offered.

Hardly satisfactory, but faced with no other choice, they walked, or rather trudged, up the hill, before, as one by one, they each crested the summit, they each, stopped.

Before them the sun shone done from a cloudless sky, creating fabulous rainbows in the still falling rain. A german shepherd stopped an animated conversation mid sentence to watch the party descend the hill, before turning his attention back to a lady from Strasbourg. A man in in a tuxedo appeared, dancing around each of them in turn, his brandy-soaked breath making them gag, even as his feet spashed water up and over his dinner jacket.

Bewildered, Burgher Russ and his tired company continued walking, leaving him dancing in the puddles in their wake. However, a precise moment before he left their collective vision, the drunken tuxedo wearer yelled after them.

"Where are you not going?", he bellowed.

"Nowhere", yelled back Burgher Russ.

"To your left then", he replied, waving his arm, before turning and beginning his merry dance anew.

And lo, he was right, to their left was their destination.

"I've always been lucky", said Burgher Russ to noone in particular, as he made his way inside...

... who, as has been the way of late, received the party in a confused, but friendly manner...

A Burgher in Absentia 24th August, 2006 23:09:16   [#] 

Comments

Whoa!
Whoa! Houseguests. I bought you some pillows. There is one specially designed for people who sleep on their stomach and one for people who sleep on their backs. Hope that works out for you!
Adam  25th August, 2006 21:05:02