The Swan, the Shoes

The man who comes to do our trees and hedges, neatly, roughly once a year, is telling me about one of his daughters. Coming up to 48, she’d never been abroad. And so for that birthday (this was just last year) he arranged her first passport, and took her to a big resort on the Black Sea coast. She’d never stayed in such a place; had no experience of hotels to speak of. When it came to her room being serviced, she confessed to her dad that she was worried, embarrassed at the mess she’d so quickly made. He eventually persuaded her to let the staff service her room.
That night he found her in tears. Had something gone wrong – been broken, or stolen?
‘No’, she said, ‘I’m crying because someone made a swan out of a towel and put it on the bed. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.’
Then she cried some more, he said, and added: ‘and someone’s even put all my shoes in a neat line along the wall.’



About Stevie Mitchell

I come from a long line of cartoons and beer. I was once peed on by a tiger. Hoping the resultant super-powers are yet to come, cos if these are they, then, grrrr....
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