This post is a short one brought on by comments on PHC chat over the last few days...
Half way to getting there and six days behind in a car that wasn’t going anywhere at all the Russian Mona Lisa and the Bavarian French toast on the side were snoring in each other’s arms and spread out over the back seat.
Outside of the car it was snowing heavily and all was white with it, even the trees beside the road were no longer visible and in this hard to define landscape the temperature dropped below 35 degrees c and the car froze solid and became a tomb for the two inside who were now together forever for better or worse.
Thirty five thousand miles away as the crow flies a red London bus was cracking along the road going south and driven by a maniac with a mad staring face who had three guns beside him, a bottle of gin and a packet of peanuts just in case.
When he came to a road block he blew on through, leaving the guards behind, his evil rictus grin the last thing they saw as they died in a hail of bullets.
“We have you in our sights,” said the sniper from his tree. And pressing the trigger many holes were put in the bus and the mad maniac died a happy man and went to heaven where eager virgins waited for him to undress and come to bed.
Image from Pixabay
