PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

A Trip to Town.

I have just come home from a trip into town. My cup of coffee tasted especially good at the local coffee shop that I asked if they were using a different mixture. It was the same coffee that they always serve so why was it so good today. Another one of life’s mysteries I thought and forgot about it until I sat down to write today’s little story. While I was sitting drinking my coffee it came over quite dark my neighbour said it would be pouring down soon; my scar on my right leg is playing up something wicked. A clap of thunder and it started to rain. Did I say rain it actually poured down and I did not have my umbrella with me. I thought it would be better if I stayed in the coffee shop until it stopped raining. One cannot sit for long in a coffee shop without ordering another drink. The coffee had been excellent and I ordered another cup to pass the time away.

I sat for a while slowly sipping my coffee. The neighbour sitting at the next table tried to get me into a conversation but my mind was on other things. I am afraid I was rather abrupt and his talking went into one ear and out of the other. In other words I was not really listening. The waitress that served my coffee brought me one of the daily papers to read. The front page was as usual full of Politics and I quickly looked at the second page. One article caught my attention the words written were (Sightings of Fairies on the Heath at Dartford) I read the article two or three times. It seems that a school class of infants had been taken to the heath for a lesson on what grows naturally on this open land.

A newspaper reported that had been covering a story of a fire that had destroyed some of the gorse bushes. The story was not very spectacular and on seeing the class of children the reporter decided to see if the children had any news that would fill a few columns in the local paper. The first child he approached said, “I can’t talk now I am busy watching the Fairies.” Fairies the reporter thought would be more interesting to write about than a few burnt gorse bushes. He cleverly asked a few questions and other children told him they too had seen the Fairies. The Fairies are bigger than butterflies and had wings that one could see through. One child a small girl told the reporter that she had been playing hide and seek with the Fairies. One little boy rather plump excitedly told the reporter of the lovely sweet Fairy cakes that he had been given to eat. He had only to ask and platefuls of small Fairy Cakes appeared from out of nowhere. The reporter asked if he was just making this up because the other children had said that they too had seen the Fairies. The little plump boy was almost in tears because the reporter did not believe him.

The article was well written and I asked the waitress if I could cut the article out for my small collection of things that people had seen on the Heath at Dartford. The waitress told me that she had seen and read the article and told me that she as a small girl had often seen the Fairies whenever she was taken to the Heath. My question of, “Do you really believe in fairies?” she smiled and said, “There are many things in this old world of ours that many people believe in but cannot prove. I am sure that the children saw the Fairies as I did when I was a young girl. The rain has stopped and I quickly made my way home with the newspaper cutting to write about it. Bern