the mammy strikes
The noble Heelers arrives home after a long day's ogling.
I mean work.
He parks his car.
Long shadows stretch across the garden.
He enters by the front door of the old chateau.
The house is still.
Nobody else home.
I pause to kneel before the little statue of the blessed virgin Mary which stands on a table in the hall.
The statue features a representation of the virgin as she is purported to have appeared in the Portuguese town of Fatima.
I open my spirit to the truth represented by the image.
My handsome preraphaelite features take on an other worldly serenity.
My pale blue eyes seem deep as oceans.
I gaze upon the statue of the mother of God.
Abruptly my attention is drawn from prayerful repose.
There is a note stuck to the statue's right arm.
It reads: "Don't forget to bring out the bin."
I mean work.
He parks his car.
Long shadows stretch across the garden.
He enters by the front door of the old chateau.
The house is still.
Nobody else home.
I pause to kneel before the little statue of the blessed virgin Mary which stands on a table in the hall.
The statue features a representation of the virgin as she is purported to have appeared in the Portuguese town of Fatima.
I open my spirit to the truth represented by the image.
My handsome preraphaelite features take on an other worldly serenity.
My pale blue eyes seem deep as oceans.
I gaze upon the statue of the mother of God.
Abruptly my attention is drawn from prayerful repose.
There is a note stuck to the statue's right arm.
It reads: "Don't forget to bring out the bin."
posted by heelers | 3:20 AM
3 Comments:
Ah, the Mammy works in mysterious ways, her daily wonders to perform :)
Yes Schnee, but is nothing sacred!
J
Of course! The mother of Ireland's greatest living poet, she is sacred. Or scared. Or scarred. Or...something.
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