oh, bugger! #2

ALSO forgot to mention (and how COULD I???) that i am currently engaged in a description duel with more twitterfriends: @scupperlout @nwfoodie and possibly @TheFirstCarol, though she is undecided, yet. @jenku70 (Jens) is the judge (and possibly carol, if she decides not to participate in the duel / trial(?))
Jens picked some photos, and we must describe the scene as if in a novel / short story. let's see if i can cut and paste my entry, shall we, dear reader?....

1.

The autumn day was cool and damp. On a day like this, when the air was fresh on his skin, smelling faintly of leaf mould and the promise of winter, he wanted to be outside.
Strolling along an anonymous back street, marvelling at how people managed to get their cars in and out of the closely-crammed lines on either side, he idly scratched an itch at the back of his head.
The itch refused to be scratched.
Then he realised – the itch was not on his scalp, but inside his head. As he came upon a knackered blue fiat, the itch flared into pain, as he met the malevolent stare of the black cat sitting, hunched and still, on the bonnet. Its ginger companion stared far away into a place that only he could see.
As the pain grew and set fire to his mind, he realised, with dread, that he had strolled down the wrong street, and these were not mere cats, but guardians.
And they would make him pay for his trespass.


2.


Jim couldn’t believe his luck.
How many times, if ever, do you spy a half-dressed raven-haired honey running full pelt down a busy city street, making a beeline for you? He knew she was heading for him, since her dark eyes never left his face as she ran.
“Oh, wow!” was all he could think.
“Oh, wow!” as she drew nearer and nearer.
He just couldn’t help the broad and (he hoped) welcoming smile that spread across his features as she skidded to a stop in front of him.
The smile, however, was instantly replaced by a grimace of wide-eyed terror as her intense stare nailed him to the pavement, and she drew two of the biggest hand cannons that Jim had ever seen – in or out of the movies.
“Down.” She ordered, quietly.
Jim hit the flagstones an instant later and, as the guns went off, heard twin thuds on the pavement behind him.


3.

Venice. Romantic Italian city-state. Home of the masque, of art, and of decadence.
Grey, wretched, filled with the noxious smell from the lagoons, and absolutely pissing down.
The little boats bobbing on the canal reminded her of children on a school trip to Buxton in the wintertime.
He had sent her a picture of this place, saying “Meet me here, and I will show you delights of which you have never dared to dream.”
So she had come.
What she had found was a gloomy, empty, swamp-stinking picture of misery and decay. The buildings, stained with the damp and mould of centuries, wept in the desolate downpour.
And she wept with them, mourning her shattered romantic dreams.


4.

The lowering evening sun struck diamonds from the ice that sparkled all around her. Her mermaid’s body rose up, the tail just out of sight beneath the steely surface of the still water. She was young, softly rounded, and utterly beguiling in her freedom from care or reserve.
Smiling into the sunset, she stretched luxuriantly in her icy bath, seen by no-one but a swan, making his stately way over the ice, on business of his own.

damn! STILL no pictures!

oh, well, the judge(s?) has it now - it is out of my hands. however, it was a very pleasant and rather fun way to spend a saturday night, and i would reccomend it to anyone... :)