MY PROSE BY BERNYBOY

 

My Name.

 

 

 

Please do not laugh, my name was chosen by my Mother and Father. The name was mine from my birth on until this very day. It was not and I emphasize it was not of my choice, I would have preferred ,Tom, Dick or Harry but to be named after an Author of many books, Poems and Plays as the Famous George Bernard Shaw, I have heard many comments on my name not very nice comments mostly have you written any Books lately is one of the comments that I now can answer, Yes I have written five books of Fairy Tales under the name of Bern and one autobiography of my own life. No I am not Famous perhaps after my life,s span is ended perhaps someone will find a copy of one of Bern's Fairy tales and I will get credit for my work.

 

 

 

 

 

Just a Trollop.

 

 

 

No I can not be called a trollop that is a bad name given to some young girls. Boys are called by other names, Names that I will not write in this my scribble for for today. The name trollop is not one of my words I treat all of the female sex in a polite way. Madam or miss for the very young I usually have a cosy name up my sleeve. No trollop is not in my dictionary.

 

 

 

 

 

The Book.

 

 

 

Walking down the high street I happened to look into the window of a second hand shop. I must have passed this shop many times but had no real interest for second hand objects. It was a leather bound book that caught my eye Now my interest was fully awakened and I walked into the shop. Walking to the window I took the leather bound book in my hands and walked to the counter. How much do you want for this old book I asked the man behind the counter. His answer was surprisingly cheap, “Two shillings for you Sir” Putting my hand in my pocket I gave the man his two shillings. I left the shop and walked back home. Entering my front door I laid the rather heavy leather bound book on the hallway table and going into the kitchen I made myself a cup of hot sweet tea. . While drinking my cup of tea the book flashed into my mind. Putting my cup of tea down I went into the hall and took the leather bound book into my kitchen. My surprise when I at last opened the book The whole of my kitchen was covered with what looked like light emitting diodes. The kitchen was covered with flashing small lights and on taking the now opened book the lights followed me into every room on closing the book the lights disappeared. I could hardly wait for the darkness to come and late in the evening I took the book into my backyard. I opened the book and those small twinkling lights appeared all over the heavens. It was now my turn to wonder what was happening there were no electric cables to supply the book with electricity. Was it magic? and above all who had such knowledge to make such a book. The book I only open when I am alone in my old house. I would never be able to explain where all of those little flashin light came from 9or what it was that only i could see them. I tactfully asked my neighbours if they had noticed any difference in the night skies. All answered with no they had seen nothing out of the usual. The book is locked away in my safe and I will leave the book to anyone that I think will appreciate it and its millions of light emitting diodes for that is what I think the lights are. Your scribbler Bern.

 

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