Ambrose Brown guided his blindfolded wife Muriel through their house and into the garden. Muriel had just returned from a three-month project that had her teaching street kids, so-called ‘graffiti artists’, how to put their developing talents to good use. Muriel was locally famous for her eponymous wall-paintings and wanted nothing more than to inspire those who had the undoubted underlying ability but not the means or connections to realise their full potential or to put their talents to good use. Yes, she was something of a do-gooder.
“What’s that noise I can hear?” she asked her husband.
“You’ll see in a second, my love,” Ambrose replied.
“Did you sort out our back garden, like you promised?”
“Be patient. You’ll see in a second.”
He walked her to the patio and had her sit in the swinging sofa.
“Ooh,” she said, “have we got people coming around?”
“No, darling, it’s just the two of us.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, hiding her disappointment, “can you take the blindfold off now? I want to see what you did whilst I was away.”
Not wanting her to be blinded by the sudden light, Ambrose covered his wife’s eyes with his hand and lifted the material that he had previously wrapped around her head. He slowly parted his fingers until Muriel had full vision then moved his hand away.
Muriel Brown rose to her feet, looked her husband in the eye and said, “Ambrose Brown, what the hell do you call that?”
Coyly and tremulously, for he was secretly afraid of his wife, described by some as a ‘formidable woman’, he said, “It’s a – a w-water feature, dear.”
“A water feature? A water feature? When you said you were going to design a rockery with flowing water, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I had a clear idea of what I didn’t expect.”
“And what did you not expect, my angel?”
“I didn’t expect a nearly-life-sized tribute to Niagara Falls, that’s what I didn’t expect. But it looks, and sounds, like that’s what I got.”
“But you said I should think big.”
“What’s your name?”
“My name is Ambrose, you know it is.”
“Yes. Ambrose. Not Lancelot. What’s the opposite of capability?”
“I don’t know – ineptitude?”
“Yes, I like that. I can see the sign now – landscaped by Ambrose Ineptitude Brown!”
This was written in response to Kreative Kue 261 published on this site.
We went for a look at the flood,
Just me and Matilda, my bud,
The water’s so deep
It fair made me weep
And chilled me right through to my blood
At swimming, I’m somewhat impaired,
You can see how my nostrils are flared.
But you needn’t worry,
Cos I’m in no hurry
To get out – in fact, I ain’t scared.
Don’t come here if you are faint-hearted
Or you’ll end up with the departed
Get rid of your troubles
In dozens of bubbles
I lost all of mine – I just farted
Please don’t look at me with disdain
To keep it in causes me pain
I know greenhouse gases
Come out of our a***s
Those bubbles are filled with methane.
I think of myself as a winner
Though you maybe count me a sinner
I just heard a moo
Did you hear it, too?
That means that it’s time for my dinner.
This was written in response to Kreative Kue 260 published on this site.
“I was just thinking about our first date, Marjorie. Do you remember it?”
“If you can call it a date. But yes, I remember it very clearly. I was having my very first driving lesson in a little blue car—”
“An Austin A30, it was.”
“I don’t know about that. It was blue is all I remember. Anyway, my instructor told me to do an emergency stop. ‘Imagine a cat has just run out right in front of you,’ he said. Well. I panicked and pressed with the wrong foot, so we went faster instead of stopping. ‘Don’t you like cats?’ he asked me. Well, I laughed so much I didn’t see your car in front of me—”
“And ran right into it.”
“That’s right, I did. I didn’t hit it very hard, though, because my instructor used his pedals to stop us.”
“I needed a new bumper and overriders!”
“But you were very sweet about it. Some men might have been angry, and I thought you were when you started arguing with my instructor. That’s why I got out of the car when I did.”
“And when I saw you… well, you were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. You know how when you see something so lovely it takes your breath away?”
“I do. When I first saw the baby red panda in the zoo it was so beautiful it made me cry.”
“That’s what I felt when I saw you. Obviously, I didn’t cry, though. I was a man, after all.”
“You still are, as far as I know, Timothy.”
“Yeah, but back n those days, men didn’t cry. It was seen as weak and, well, unmanly to cry.”
“So is that why you started jibber-jabbering?”
“I couldn’t get my words out straight, could I? I was overwhelmed by your beauty.”
“You’re very kind; I’m sure I didn’t deserve that. But you know what threw me?”
“I think I know what you’re going to say, and I’ll admit it wasn’t my greatest moment—”
“It was when you took hold of both of my hands, fell to one knee and asked me to marry you!”
“I can understand why that would have seemed a strange thing to do.”
“Strange? I didn’t know how I was supposed to react to that. I mean, what was I supposed to say?”
“So you said yes.”
“We’ve been wed a long time, Marjorie. Sixty years near enough, and in all that time, you’ve never told me what made you say yes to such a clumsy, premature proposal. What did you see in me?”
“What’s brought this on all of a sudden? Is it something to do with the moon?”
“No. Maybe it set me thinking. So why did you say yes?”
“I don’t really know, Timothy. I think I just panicked and said the first thing that came into my head.”
This was written in response to Kreative Kue 259 published on this site.