Friday, 25 October 2013

The Two Little Fishermen...

The two little fishermen, (if you could call them that, for they looked decidedly bourgeois, and out of place on the riverbank), were always half-risen in alarm. But at what? I couldn't tell, they were fixed, little ink paintings on a teacup, their intruder obliterated by a china handle. Dear little men, they looked so perturbed, though I expect the fish were probably quite glad to escape their glances.

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