Sometimes there are certain tableaux I come across in life that inspire poems for The Escritorium.
I loved this image but it didn’t feel poetic in the right way so I am attempting some flash fiction again. I’m doing this one for the love of it.
Foxy Russet looked out nervously from the high shelf of the Department Store.
He, being the most wily, had conceived the plan of climbing to the highest shelves for the very best vantage point.
Alongside him, the jaunty figure of General Nutcracker stood, the red plume of his hat no match for Russet’s natural elegance.
“Well Foxy…” said The General, “All troops have been mustered and ordered to look out through the window. Even the crockery is standing to attention!”
Foxy Russet said nothing for a moment, his eyes shone wistfully as they saw the shimmering trail in the sky.
“It’s another goodbye to jolly old St. Nick. So nice of you to think of sharing the send-off with everyone…”
“Thank you General,” said Foxy softly. “I think I’ll stay up here for a while yet though…”
“I’m sure you’ll be bought soon, Foxy.” The General reassured his friend.
“It’s not that, Hans, I’m waiting for the old year to fall, and the new one to arrive, just like the Evening Star fades in and out.”
“Oh I see.” The General noted. “That’s what I admire about you, Foxy old chap, you’re always looking up.”
Foxy smiled, and the gold light of the dawn of made him shine just as bright as the New Year was sure to be.
(© Copyright Pola Negri 26/12/2015.)