Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.
We are ready, almost. A lot to pack, a lot still to plan. Will it be Wedding, or Schöneberg, or Tempelhof? The search will continue for the next few months. But now we have a foothold!
So, soon, we will be leaving this little foolish island. Maybe forever? We don’t know. The present atmosphere does not give us reasons to stay! And then we have so much to do, far from the politicking of monkeying politicians and their media puppets…
The diary to write, the photos to take, the novel to restart!
And you, my dear, to worship as ever…
Photography: Pelikan Haus, Ritterstr., Berlin-Kreuzberg, © 2016 Honoré Dupuis
You’ve being exiled to a private island, and your captors will only supply you with five foods. What do you pick?
I asked for:
- A banana
- Some hot chilli peppers
- Some black pepper
- A small chestnut
- A glass of vodka
I ate the banana, swallowed chilli and black pepper, washed down with vodka, beat the shit out of all of them, stole their launch, sailed home and gave the chestnut as souvenir to Gorgeous!
Hesitantly she walked a few yards on the patch of grass where she’d landed. She was on an island, to her left she saw a low building looking like a sea-side café. There were benches and a few wooden tables. To her right was a flight of steps leading down to a paved walkway. She could hear the faint sound of waves in the distance and the cries of seagulls. The sky was deep blue and cloudless. Her movements were awkward, the way of actors in very old films before the digital magic of remastering. Looking at herself on the screen she laughed silently, thinking that her brother would not recognise this small creature with a funny hairdo and ridiculous clothes. Luckily there was no one nearby. Some distance away in the centre of the island she could see a few people, more like shadows. She wished Julien was here with her, to guide and protect her. Gathering her courage she decided to explore.