Mag 217

A picture from Tess of a disconsolate black labrador should get all born writers salivating . . .

It's A Dog's Life . . .

"You wonder why I have this hang-dog look? Why I never go 'Woof Heh Heh Heh' and whizz around in circles any more? Well I'll tell you.  These days he only stops tapping away at his wretched Apple Mac to take his bloody mobile phone for walkies. And I'll tell you something else. If he did take me out and throw it and say 'Fetch' - I wouldn't. I would not.  I'd drop it in a puddle.  Or give it a good chewing. Bloody phone addicts . . . so busy down loading apps and ringtones or whatever they don't notice they're stepping in poo. Serve them right.  Grrrr!"

More responses to this week's prompt HERE.

(See the comments on Tess's Mag blog - link as above - for source of the picture.)

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Mag 215

Week by week without fail Tess Kincaid gives us a picture prompt to fire our Muse.  

Ballade

Goodbye,  Claude Balls

There once was a fellow called Strong
whose legs grew impressively long.
He liked them like that.
They ensured that his cat
could not climb them and do dreadful wrong.







The King of Cats, 1935, Balthus 


Worthier responses can be found here.


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