- 16 April 2018
- Burnt Sienna Story
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Burnt was indeed in a bit of a pickle.The Origination – as you do, of course, know, if you had been paying attention …
had transmogrified Burnt into some form of sludgy mess
Burnt found himself in a broad based bottle made of thickened white glass ; a large open shop- jar. After a moment of reflection Burnt realised, although tangibly unnervingly, that he had become liquorice - coloured sort of (well .. of sorts) Burnt was now a liquorice drink - long lean black and foamy
Then, abruptly, he was lifted by his head out of the emporium and into a very brightly lit landscape of shimmering lights and jarring sounds
Of hooters and horns
He heard the sound of a wave being waved
Burnt reappraised the situation
It wasn’t a wave – whatever he was, HE was being drunk , head first, and (understandably)reeled due to his light-headedness
Think fast – for crisps sake- think fast !
He reached inside his green silk waistcoat and
Extracted a small pinch of an aromatic rhizome; spreading it onto his soft quiff
Aargh! cried the liquorophagus -spitting out the cabbage tasting sludge
Burnt hit the ground with a flat splat slap and rolled towards the street drain
The baking sun miraculously dried him ever so quickly and Burnt was transmuted into a long thin liquorice stick
And lay on the grass verge just outside St Paul’s Cathedral
He was immediately picked up by a vagrant, with a sullen expression pasted on his face
The ex-Dean put Burnt deep into the front pocket of his torn trousers;
It was Hell in there hot stuffy and very unpleasant
As the tramp stumbled along , Burnt was jostled back and forth, left and right – very disorientating is this thought Burnt
This hapless mendicant , unemployed and unemployable walked a little further and then stopped with a lurch, sitting down on the park bench.
Burnt slipped through a hole in the Dean’s pocket and came to rest slap against his inner thigh.
The Dean started scratching – long strong direct strokes around the groin area
The itching wasparticularly intense around his perineum ; he clawed vigorously,
dislodging Burnt, who slid down the philanthropist’s ragged trousers to the dusty shaled ground.
What now thought the liquorice stick.
Burnt closed his eyes tight and wrinkled his black forehead in an attempt to resolve his situation.
It looked hopeless
Darkness slowly spread into the evening; the air grew colder, and the demesne more silent.
The tall,gold-painted gates flanged shut and Burnt lying on the cold dry tarmac was as one.
Then as if …..Burnt was rolled by a gentle cool breeze onto a large chestnut – brown sycamore leaf
and warmed by the curled dry leaf, Burnt fell asleep.