In the brume, there is nothing to do, the fog shifts through the pockets of pine forests, as they come and sit next to me. The Local girls…huh…the other day I was walking down a hillside and a pahadi girl was walking up with her wicker load of substance, and the moment she looked at me, a cry of despair escaped her: ‘Quelle gueule?’ she said, not wanting to be impolite, but her maidenly forthrightness escaped the confines of her restraint.
Monkey girls come, and sit next to me. I know them by their tits. Monkey boys, never come, they are too proud. The other day a male monkey, came a little too close to me, and I unslotted the button of my umbrella, and it made a sword-sheatheing noise, and the Monkey just calmly looked at me, nodded his head, bossively and said: ‘Ça va pas? Je suis juste en train de chier…’.
Girls come, and sit next to me, unperturbed. I know Sandrine, because her left nipple is longer than her right one. She is the colour of a Bordeaux Clairet Rosé (C.R.) with a fine strawberry-tétin, jutting at the front. Claudette is older, she has sagging, paps but the nipples are still of fine provenance, un Jambon de Paris on dirait, but whether she has ever made a trip to the capital is anybody’s guess, her accent is certainly Provincial.
The Simian twins, Élodie and Lucidie are distinguished by the fact that for the younger sister the nipples become red in the summer and blonde in the winter, just like a fine blonde of Southern French provenance, while for Lucidie, a darker (brunette) nipple lends to auburn tints by the time of the solstice. Marie-France has the finest Bordeaux, she is convoitied by all the Bandariennes in the coin, she was the 2014 winner of the Miss Branch contest. Florence has cherry lips, laitières I mean, she resembles a Bourgogne in that sense.
These young girls come, and give the old man a company. I do not know what they find in me?
Sixteen short-stories of Kashmiri writer Arjun Razdan have been published in twenty-one literary journals in ten countries, equalling twenty-two publications. This former French Government scholar, started writing fiction in 2012 and was first published in 2016. He awaits the publication of his first roman The Gusts of Alien Wind
J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is old enough to know better. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at The Beatnik Cowboy, Crossroads Magazine, Disturb the Universe Magazine, The Rye Whiskey Review and Misfit Magazine. You can find him most days at his home in Ohio, taking care of his disabled mother and trying to hit another crazy 20 team parlay. He still has a blog, evil delights, although he rarely has the time to write on it. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)
