The Centre

You hold yourself carefully under the box that is swinging slightly as the balloon gets pulled along by the wind. You take a deep breath and hold t. Any mistake now could be a loss to you. Finally, you close your eyes and fire.

You hear a satisfying ‘pop’, and then a crash as the box (which is wrapped in white paper and a red ribbon) falls heavily into a leafy, green bush in front of you.

Almost greedily, you cast aside the pale box and ribbon, and tear off the crimson-coloured paper inside to see what gift you have acquired.

Unfortunately, the present is a large hand-held clock, brown in colour, with wooden hands spinning wildly after its fall from the sky; something that you neither want, nor need. So, you stuff the cumbersome object into one of your coat pockets, noticing the small tear at the edge of the pocket. You will soon have to go to the tailor-shop to have it mended, lest your belongings start to trail out like ants.

Turning, you gaze into the clear, blue water in the river beside you. You watch the distorted images of colourful fish dart backwards and forwards, obviously afraid of you and the small fishing rod that is poking out of your back pocket. But, in the end, that’s life. You have to make money somehow, even if it means removing some lovely fish from their lives.

And, yes, these specimens would make a lovely ‘gift’ to the local museum.

That reminds you, suddenly, that you said you’d meet up with the owner of the coffee shop that, officially, belongs to the museum; you have an idea that he is rather sweet on you, and a little romance in your life shouldn’t be left unattended. Unfortunately, you can’t remember if he told you where to meet.

So do you…

The End

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