How many people have sat there, upon the old wood of the bench on the green, watching the slow life of the village pass by? For many years it has provided a place to stop and rest; now it’s old and worn, wearied from its long labour. Moss and lichen mottle the surface like age spots upon an old man’s skin. A broken slat leans in resignation against its former resting place while ivy twines, binding tight. But despite its age and decrepit state, it is not yet done. Its function will be fulfilled for many a day yet to come.
This is my entry into Cee’s Black and White Challenge. This week’s theme is tables, chairs or seating of any kind.
Exploring our connection to the wider world
Wrangling literary arts for writers: words for people!
watching the world of brain research
Trust your own instinct. Your mistakes might as well be your own, instead of someone else’s. Billy Wilder