Sunday 11 December 2011

A Man on his Porch


            It was a pleasant winter evening. The elderly gentleman stood on his porch, watching the cars as they went by and occasionally glancing at the construction going on across the road from his quaint, attractive townhouse.
            The hedge around his garden was well kept, and gave the man a nice sense of privacy, even though it was only about a hand’s breadth above waist height. His gnome bustled around the hedge, trimming a leaf here, a wayward branch there, helping the shrubby wall keep up the illusion that it had in fact grown to be as orderly and mathematical as it appeared.
            The man was very pleased with his life at the moment. Heat emanating from a mug of mild black tea teased his hand and prompted a satisfied smile. He had a good life, after all. He kept a clean, prim house that was but a short distance walk from the town’s small commercial district; he didn’t struggle to make ends meet; and he had reached that stage in life where he had both the means and the time to take things slowly, and fully enjoyed doing so.

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            Hello again. I have finally decided that I will continue to post updates, but the focus will no longer be on travel, rather it will be a place where I dump pieces of creative writing I've made. I don't know how often I'll update, but it will probably be more than once a month.

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