Pick a pocket WAG #19

I think I've cheated here a little as my imagination ran away with me turning a real event into something rather odd, but here goes...

WAG #19
Pick a Pocket
I was sitting staring out of the window of a well known coffee shop chain window. People came and went and still I stared and then, inspiration struck. Two men in a rather inebriated state passed by wearing patriotic wigs, it was St George’s day after all. The local community support officer was looking a little worried as the men were singing rather loudly and there was a lot of swearing, swaying and exposure of beer belly going on.

Our town centre is not used to such behaviour, not even on Friday nights, even the busker has a flute and a laminated sign asking for donations. It wasn’t long before two police cars arrived spilling out a few officers to deal with the situation. The men were drawing a lot of attention, some people hurried by not wanting to get involved, other struggled to conceal a smile and others stood around to watch.
People were mumbling as they passed and as they came in to the coffee shop one word stuck in my mind, ‘clown’. At that moment in my mind that was what the men became, clowns. The police officers were trying to talk to the men, to calm the situation down, when one of them reached into his pocket, panic ensured, police were yelling but the man simply pulled out a banana! Now the police were fearing the worst, they needed to assert their authority and so they arrested the men and then the rest of the pockets were emptied.

First came the clown hooter, just perfect for traversing the high street and scaring unsuspecting people going about their business. Then there was the elasticated red nose, perfect for all those nose pulling antics in the big top. The third thing was the grease paint, red and white ideal for those fiendish and, to me at least, rather scary oversized clown smiles.

The men must have had deep pockets as last, but certainly not least, the police officers recovered a custard pie. I guess that as well as being drunk and disorderly they can add being in charge of an offensive weapon to the charge sheet.

Result for #18 and instructions for #19

Have fun visiting these people to see their take on this weeks task and for next week's.

Mickey Hoffman

Kate McIntire

JM Strother

Marsha Moore

Miss G

India Drummond
Next Week:

“WAG #19: Pick a Pocket” Let’s do some stalking people-watching for this one! Pick someone out of a crowd and describe what (you imagine) is in their pockets (Unless you want to be brave and ask them!) Give us both meaning and physical details, and don’t forget to let yourself be surprised. (This week’s topic inspired by my son Bear.)

How to be added to the “results” post next week:

1. Write whatever you like based on the theme suggested
2. Post the results on your blog
3. Email THE DIRECT LINK TO YOUR WAG POST (not just your blog) to India AT IndiaDrummond DOT com (or use the handy-dandy web form). This way I can link back to you in the next post! Please include the word WAG in your subject heading. Please include the title of the post (if any) and your name as you want it to appear on the listing. If you do not do this, I will use the name as it appears on your email.
4. To get more people involved, please use Twitter, FB status, myspace, your blog, etc to tell your writer friends about the group and talk about your own writing adventure! All are welcome to join, so spread the word!

WAG #18: Invisible Object

The writing group is back so here is my take on the first new topic...

Where I often work looks out onto the back garden. I tend to take it for granted yet it is spectacular. The shrubs offer such an array of colours. The blazing red of the azalea the delicate pink of the cherry blossom and the bold yellows of the dandelions fighting for their space all serve as inspiration. I often state out onto the lawn watching a bird or a squirrel foraging, sometimes watching the children playing, undoing all the hard work that has been done in just a few minutes.

I have often sat and imagined fairies darting in and out of the branches of the conifers and pixies darting in and out of the flower bed, magical creatures grazing on the lawn, just out of sight, indeed the garden could easily be my magical setting for fairy stories and yet I don’t even notice it, I change it and twist it so the rainbow that is seldom there becomes a permanent fixture.

Now as I look I can appreciate the space, the ever changing nature of the garden as flowers bloom and droop, leaves grow and fall, children play and adults tidy. A place of inspiration and beauty that is constant in terms of being there but constantly in flux. The garden would be missed if it wasn’t here, the space, the colours and the ability to spend time in the open, fresh air and yet not notice, taken for granted and yet beloved, another part of our family. We tend it, seed it and enjoy it but how much do we see it?